Love Story
by RamenKitty
Summary: William Birkin/Annette Birkin love story. Hey, I thought I'd be different :) R&R cause...cookies! :) PG-13-IT'S FINISHED! ITS DONE! HOORAY!
1. Chapter 1

Author's note: I have a thing about William Birkin.  Don't ask me what's so appealing (intelligent guys are rare…no offense to you gents) and I wanted to explore a lesser-known relationship in RE.  Nobody ever sees William and Annette ALIVE and TOGETHER (well, rarely) so this is a how-did-they-meet story.

Its also (Loosely) inspired by an anime called "Voices of a distant Star" which involves the separation of true lovers.  Despite their adversities I think William and Annette Really loved each other. 

            For the sake of argument-let us assume that Annette is 24 and William is (at least by my account and Wesker's report) 26.  This gives them a nice distance-and the way she kinda discusses William its like he was older she was younger (shrugs) at least that was my interpretation.

Disclaimer:

She didn't own it

She doesn't claim to.

Don't sue her

Or she'll have to flame you.

(Or something like that-I sucks at rhymes) 

----------------------------

The meeting of two personalities is like the contact of two chemical substances: if there is any reaction, both are transformed. 

**Carl Jung (1875 - 1961)**

-------------------------------

1986

Thursday

Sunlight streamed in through the café windows.  The town was too damn small to afford good coffee-but they did their best.  

            Annette LeDour paid the cashier and lifted up her coffee.  She'd been working at Arklay for two years now-and Dammit if they didn't owe her a break.  Or at least they should-She worked on Dr. Birkin's team-although it was well known that Birkin was a slave driver.

Besides-she had other reasons for being here-

"Hey."

Annette peered upward-her blue eyes wide.

            "Hey!" She smiled.  Jack Stevens sat across from her, his brown hair all a tumble.  He had coffee in hand and a downcast look, "Are you alright?"

"That's…what I want to talk to you about."

            Ever since coming to Arklay-Annette had hooked up with Jack.  There were plenty of good-looking men working for Umbrella (A sexist world, but she didn't mind) but the men were few and far between.  Jack and Annette had latched on quickly-and since the company didn't have a policy against inner dating (odd thing that) they had been known as a couple.

Until now…

"Listen Ann…I-" Jack looked torn, "I'm just gonna come out and say it-"

"You're seeing someone else."

Jack said nothing.   His dark green eyes strayed to the counter.  Suddenly the cheerful sunlight seemed far darker.  Her stomach went cold.  Annette winced-her sudden outburst had been unexpected. 

But you…you and I… 

Long ago the two of them had made plans-assuring each other that it was love at first sight.  Annette would finally be able to go back to New Orleans and tell her dear grandmother that-

            "It was sudden." Jack looked at her with the wounded puppy look she'd loved so much, "Her name's Sarah-she works in-"

"You and I…" Annette felt the coffee grow cold in her stomach, "We made plans…"

"Foolish plans." Jack's voice was soft, "I'm so sorry Annette."

_Sorry? Sorry doesn't cut it you Rat bastard! _ Annette clenched her hands.  Her eyes closed.  _I loved you! I…gave you-I-_

            Jack was staring at something outside the window, " I hope this won't interfere with our working relationship.  I really respect you."

Annette slowly opened her eyes, he was trying to smile.

"You-_respect me?_" she managed to restrain herself from grabbing the coffee.  Every inch of her body had gone cold with the desire to burst into tears.  Lightly, she raised a hand to the necklace he'd given her-a blue pendant.

            "Take back your damn necklace." She tore it off her neck savagely.   Jack looked hurt-then concerned.

"Listen-Annette-"

"No _you _Listen." The inhabitants of the café were staring at their outburst, "I loved you-and now-now you say its not real?"

"Well damn it," Now Jack was getting angry-he stood to his full six-foot two height, "We've only been together for two months!" He pounded a fist on the table, "Only two months-"

Annette said nothing.

            She tossed the necklace down on the table and stocked out of the café.  The trip down the street-to her car.  She sat behind the wheel and pushed the car into gear.

I loved him… 

The Road out to Arklay was choked with weeds.  Since whoever had built the place (some guy in the fifties) had decided to make it inconspicuous-the employees often got lost. That was bad-some said that you never returned from a trip into the forest-the usual nonsense about Indian curses on the site where Trevor built the mansion.

She pulled her car off to the side-where a collection of other vehicles awaited.  Most senior executives lived in town-she was one of the few with a direct way to leave should anything occur.

            She slammed the door shut and tromped through the weeds and various forest plants.  Her dark shoes became stained with dirt.

_Let them. _ She reached the entrance, _Jack gave me these shoes._

            "Good Afternoon Dr. LeDour." Annette blinked as she was confronted with an older woman-Wolf-that was her name-

"Hello." Annette was tired.  Perhaps she should have driven off into the forest.  She pushed past wolf-who would undoubtedly hurt her later-and down to the labs.

            The labs were cool and quiet.  All the researchers were either at lunch in the cafeteria or in town.  Various experiments left in states of unfinished preparation littered the tables of her lab as she strode in, through on a lab coat-and sat down.

Then she burst into tears.

_It's not fair! _Jack had been her only outlet.  The two of them had been able to make fun of the work they did.  Annette had her degree in medicine-his was in bio-physics-they made the perfect team…

            She sniffed, the air conditioning was comforting-like her grandmother's hands through her hair.  Annette had grown up in New Orleans- (no real accent sadly) but that was because she'd been born in England-

She peered at her notes, now covered with tearstains.  Dr. Birkin was going to have a fit when he saw them-

_Jack…_he'd once doodled all over her note-he was a fantastic artiest.  She'd scolded him-and then received a reprimand from Dr. Westlake.  Peyton Westlake had transferred her to Birkin with the words "He'll straighten you out."

            Birkin, turned out to be one of the company's "wunderkind." He'd been working for them since he was 16.  He never _said _anything-he didn't laugh or joke with the other researchers.  Annette had often seen him staring at something under a microscope-

_Jerk _He thought he was so much better then the rest of them.  Secretly she respected his ethics, his loyalty-but his attitude…

            She continued sniffling as she tried to salvage her notes-but the very memory of happy times with Jack caused her to burst into tears again.  The air conditioning roared louder-concealing her shame.

"Are you alright?"

Annette shot up like a cat.

            "Don't do that-" she turned and came face to face with her supervisor-manila folder in hand.  He looked the same as ever-blond-lab coat-loosened tie-etc. She wondered if he'd spent his lunch here.

"Of course I'm alright." She snapped.  She brushed her hair back from her eyes, "I was just-trying to get back to speed on what we're doing."

            Birkin did not look convinced.  He folded his arms and studied the floor, then met her eyes.  He had weird eyes, unnaturally bright blue.

"Ah." 

That was it.  Birkin was a man of few words.

            "Well-" Annette sighed, "I'm having some trouble."

"With what you're doing?" Birkin looked arrogant, "It's high level material."

"No." He was so _goddamn _arrogant, "With-boyfriend." She gestured helplessly.  She realized that her short blond hair was matted and wet with tears.  

She sighed.

            "I should go back and fix myself up." She sighed, "There's a certain level of decorum that's supposed to be expected-"

"Nonsense." Birkin waved a hand, "Nonsense LeDour. Now." he looked serious and leaned against a computer, "what boyfriend?"

            "Jack." Annette said, "He and I…well we've been going out for two months." It came pouring out from her then, "He was the first person I had ever-slept with-and that's saying something.  I gave him everything-I was totally devoted to him and everything he did." She clenched her fist.  Birkin's presence forgotten, "Then he has the _nerve-_to tell me that he's in love with someone else.  That he wants to get married to her." She shook her head, "That bastard."

Birkin listened quietly; the only sound was the roar of the air conditioning so deep underground.

            " I mean-I LOVED HIM!" Annette threw the papers down on the floor-oblivious to Birkin, "I gave him everything-he-" she bowed her head.

"He was the only person that mattered to me."

            It was true, her grandmother was dead.  Her parents didn't give a shit; Jack had been the first person who had loved her-

Or so she believed.

Did he really care about her as much as he'd professed?  Long nights spent together-deep conversations, working side by side.

"I thought…" her voice was small, "we had something."

            She had no idea what was driving her to explain this to her supervisor.  People praised him to the skies to his face, but made cruel jokes behind his back.

"He was a fool." Birkin was blunt, "A fool."

            Annette snorted, "What do you mean?"

"He was a fool to throw away your affections." Birkin looked totally serious-despite his somewhat antiquated ideas, "Any man with eyes can see that you're young-attractive-and intelligent.  You would make any man a fine companion."

            Annette frowned, "You hated your mother didn't you?" His remarks had been so male chauvinist pig that they'd surprised her.

Birkin laughed.  

            Annette blinked.  His laugh was…odd-like a mad scientist from some movie.  She felt herself instinctively backing away.

"I never knew my mother-my father was a college professor." He stared at the floor, "He had very…obscure ideas about women-and men as well." Birkin snorted, "The Ass.  He ended up loosing his job because of these ideas."

"You don't like your parents."

"And you do?"

            "My parents…" Annette said, "Died."

Birkin frowned, "I'm sorry." 

            "Its nothing to be sorry about." She had hardly known her mother and father, "I was raised by my grandmother.  And you…" here she was walking on eggshells, "You were raised by the Umbrella Corporation."

Birkin snorted again.  He walked over to a nearby desk and dropped the folder he'd been carrying, "Is that what _they _say?"

            Annette nodded.

"I suppose its true then." Birkin did not look at her as he spoke, "This Company is all I've ever had.  My grand family." He swept the lab, researchers had still not yet returned, "A thousand bacteria and viruses.  And monsters." His eyes darkened, "Let us not forget the monsters."

            Annette could not forget the monsters either.  They haunted her dreams at night-she dreamt that there were police-coming in to rescue her and her friends-colleagues-but her colleagues were flesh eating zombies and she was held captive by a horrible monster.

"What about Dr. Wesker?" she'd seen Albert Wesker around-he mostly spent his time speaking to Birkin.  Albert Wesker and William Birkin were supposedly in the same boat…

            "Wesker?" Birkin smiled-then shook his head, "He and I are colleagues-nothing more." He sighed, and stared at his folder, "I have my work-that's all I need."

Annette frowned and stood up, "Just your work?"

            Birkin looked confused, "What else _is _there? I have my work.  And someday I'll be known all over the world." The ghost of a smile fluttered on his lips.

_I think that's the first time I've ever seen this guy happy. _When he smiled he was almost endearing-it made you forget that he was your superior.

Get a grip Annette- he's your superior-your boss! You can't develop a crush on your boss-besides he's "Bacteria Birkin" and several other not-so nice names.

He's insane.

            "You might make a friend."

"Nobody who could compete with me." Birkin sighed, "The people here-"

            "Are people.  Just doing their job.  Not everyone's a genius-not everyone's perfect." She shrugged, "I'd hazard that even you've made a few mistakes."

"Never." Birkin flushed, "I _don't _make mistakes."

            "Whatever." Annette rolled her eyes, " Comme vous dites Mon ami.  It is as you say."

"Un travail de l'homme peut être sa vie n'importe ce que l'occupation." Birkin muttered. 

            "You speak French?" that through her for a loop, "Impressive." The notes lay forgotten on the floor, she bent to pick them up. 

"Ich speech Französisch und Deutsch. Seines wichtiges, die zwei hauptsächlichen Sprachen Ihrer Überseekollegen zu wissen." Birkin rifled through some papers, "I sometimes make trips to Austria-or France-albeit rarely." He sighed.

            "Listen…"she felt almost on friendly terms with this man, "I owe you an apology-I once made a couple of jokes…"she squirmed in her seat, "A few of the gals…we were talking and-"

Birkin waved a hand, immersed in his work once again.

"Um…" there were noises outside, "You…you listened to me-and I…" she was being an idiot.  Damn her and her need to _be _with someone, "You-listened.  And-thanks." She gestured helpless with her hands, " I mean-you didn't strike me as the kind of person who cared about your fellow employees."

Birkin looked up at her, "I care about you."

The remark hung in the air between them for a moment.

            "Um-Um."

Birkin had returned to his work.  He'd said the last line the way someone might say, " I care about fish sticks.  No warmth-no passion-"

"Did you really mean that?"

Birkin looked up at her slowly, " I am not one to share my feelings with anyone.  You can consider-any remark made by me about feelings and science-genuine."

Annette digested this.

            "So-you-"

"Yes."

            Annette giggled, "Oh my god I feel like a fucking schoolgirl." She snorted, "Christ." It went against every instinct of her being, dating a guy straight off the rebound-

Birkin was staring at her; his folder lay on the desk forgotten.

            "Well."

"Do you require some sort of act to acknowledge the fact that I have feelings for you?" 

            He was obviously inexperienced at dealing with women-he treated this revelation like he was making a business transaction.

Yet there was something about him…

"Dinner?"

"I was thinking something different."

            Before she knew it, she was in his arms and they were _kissing. _Not softly-but full on passion-romance movie-true love at last had conquered ring the bells and tells the king cause the princess was getting married.

They pulled apart.

"Whoa."

Birkin was beet red, "I'm sorry-I didn't mean to-If I offended you-"

            Annette smiled, "Nobody's ever kissed me like _that _before." Jack had been timid-her high school boyfriends had been unsure.

"I should go-" Birkin gathered up his papers, "I have-things-I must-"

"Stay!" 

            Birkin turned to her-Researchers were filing past them upstairs-the sound drowning out the roar of the air conditioning.

"What? You want me to stay?"

"If you don't mind."

Birkin sat back down.

            "I'm on the rebound-and I don't normally date men on the rebound-"

"Forgive my outburst then." Birkin busied himself in his work, "I apologize profusely-it was inappropriate."

Annette kissed him that time-pressing him back against the seat.

            "You smell like cinnamon." She frowned.  It was as if _all inhibitions_ had walked out the door and clocked out.

" I had-um-a cookie."

Annette laughed.

            Birkin pushed her off of him gently, "Don't let it get around, if they found out that bacteria Birkin liked cookies like a _normal _human being it would ruin my tough-guy image."  He was friendlier now.   Annette was relaxed-dawn had not yet come up on her night of drinking.

"Since you mentioned dinner however-"

            "I know this great little place in town-"

"Nonsense-I'll take you out to Pravda."  Birkin said.  The door to the lab opened and two researchers appeared at the steps chatting amiably.

Annette smiled, "That sounds great."

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Author's note: This was NOT originally intended to be more then a one-shot.  Shoot.  I had a lot of fun writing this.  R&R and tell me if you liked it ne? I might go all the way up to their wedding.  

Translations:

French-

Annette: As you say my friend.

Birkin: Sometimes a man's work can be his life's occupation.

German: I speak French and German-it is important to know the primary language of one's colleagues.


	2. Chapter 2

Author's note: Chapter Two-Summer is sad because you can't find anything else to do other then writing fanfiction…hooray!

Disclaimer: I, own…a stuffed monkey.  No, I don't even own that just like I don't own the fanfic characters (accept some original ones to give the story flavor) Pravda is not a real restaurant much to my knowledge…but then again I'm not omnipotent

Thank you for your reviews! * Huggles the two reviewers* more reviews=more cookies! Come on peeps!

Dedication: This is dedicated to Fusion Tapion and Chibi.  Many fond wishes and cookies for the both of you-what you got is special.  Don't ever loose it! 

1986

A Fortnight later

Evening.

Pravda had a long waiting list.  They looked down on being late for a reservation-and they most assuredly did not like the Umbrella Corporation.

However-if they wanted to stay in business-they had to bribe like everyone else in town. 

            He was sitting across from William Birkin-who's attention was focused entirely on the woman sitting next to him.  Wesker couldn't blame them-it was about damn time that William found somebody since he regarded women as a separate species…

"So…" Albert Wesker said, "Um…"

Silence.  He pondered digging further into his food.

            "Dr. Wesker…I'm excited to be working on the project." William had promoted (Annette? She was Annette. ) Almost directly after their first meeting. 

"That's good." Wesker had ordered prawns-prawns did not agree with him.  He might have to bolt to the bathroom if this continued.  

"Exciting-yes, project." He stuffed a prawn into his mouth, "Good for you." He'd chosen this particular food because it would require his swift leave of absence. 

            "Wesker no longer has the devotion to our work that he once had." William had ordered Pasta-which Wesker was now contemplating shoving down his throat, "I am sorry you missed him before that." In truth Albert Wesker had never been as devoted to "the cause" as William Birkin.  William's method of praying was to go into the labs every Sunday and make offerings to the gods of science and progress. 

"Now, now," Wesker dropped his fork, "I _never _had the dedication that you did.  Yours was freakish."

William Birkin said nothing.  He studied his friend across the table.

Then smiled.

            "Regardless…." Annette did not like the way this conversation was going, "I'm excited.  Will you be coming back to Arklay?"

"No…" 

The truth was he never wanted to go back to Arklay again.  Apparently, William had been lax in telling his girlfriend (wow, there was a sentence he never thought he'd have to say) that he was applying for a different position with the secret service. 

"Sir, your bill." 

Birkin peered at the waiter before taking the check, staring briefly at it-and promptly fainting upon the floor.

"Didn't anyone tell you?" Wesker set the last prawn back on his plate, grinning, "William's a fainter."

-------------------

1986

Arklay labs-dormitories.

Late evening. 

Scientists stayed in the honeycombs of rooms above the labs.  There was a curfew of course-few people liked to be awoken in the wee small hours of the morning because of a raucous group of partiers who had stayed out late-but senior and chief researchers could break this curfew-

From time to time.

            Wesker and Annette were helping William to his room-since the three glasses of cold water that had been used did not rouse him.

"This one." Wesker shifted his friend's weight more to Annette's side and tried to bend backwards to get his keys.  Birkin groaned.

            "Will he be alright?"

Wesker turned around with his key in hand.  She stared down at her employer (What was he now?) with an expression of mixed pity and concern.

            "Yeah." Wesker turned away quickly, his reptilian features made him look like he was striking some kind of prey, "Yeah.  He should be fine."

William groaned again.  

            Annette giggled.

I never figured Bacteria Birkin for a fainter!  This was the guy who once yelled at an employee for using a cell phone! 

That had been amusing.

            They had been working on a tissue sample-a body donated to science.  Annette hadn't bothered to ask "How" they'd gotten the body-but she'd dutifully administered the appropriate sample of virus- and sat back to watch the results.

That was when the phone had rung.

            For some reason, Umbrella was not readily familiar with phones.  Birkin and the rest of the team had looked up confused; as a _very _young tech had picked up a phone the size of a cereal box-and began speaking in hushed tones.

Then, the zombie had awoken-and gone for the phone.

            Annette vaguely recalled that Birkin had smashed it against the wall.  When the Tech had asked who was going to pay for his phone, Birkin had said, "The Company does not pursue fruitless investments into "flavor of the month" electronics."

She smiled.

            "Hey! Sleeping Beauty!" Wesker prodded her with his finger, "You gonna help me with Prince charming or what?"

"Sorry." Annette said, "I was a million miles away."

"Yeah?" Wesker hefted his friend into his arms, "Well take the express back." He whispered, "Now come on."

            To say that William Birkin lived in sparse surroundings would be like saying that a bear shits in the woods and promptly goes off to hunt in a stream.  Annette saw no pictures on the walls-nothing but a desk and computer-and a bed off in the corner.

"Come on." Wesker gently eased his friend onto the cot, "William wake the fuck up already…"

            "I think he's asleep." Annette giggled again.  Bacteria Birkin looked a hell-of-a lot more peaceful when he was asleep then when he was awake.  His blond hair pulled back from his face, his eyes closed…

"Lets go."

"Should we undress him?" Annette stared at him expectantly, "Wouldn't he be freaked if he found out he went to sleep in his clothes?"

Silence.

            Wesker studied Annette LeDour, "Two things-firstly: I wouldn't give you the satisfaction.  Secondly: I am not-nor will I ever-"dress" my friend for bed." He folded his arms across his chest and stared down at her.

Annette sighed, "Can…you walk me back to my room?"

" You afraid of the mansion at night?"

            Annette said nothing.  This place was easy to get lost in…and she didn't want to end up in the labs without the comfort of light and day and hundreds of other people.

"No-no-its just that-"

"Come on."

            Wesker led her out to the hallway and shut the door behind them.  Annette padded softly behind him-ignoring the gruesome statutes and paintings that adorned the men's dormitories. 

"Yeech!"

            A painting featuring a man being hung from a birch tree hung in a long hallway next to a Candelabrum.  The man's eyes were open-rolled back into his head.  He screamed at something-the light flickering across the canvas made it seem like he was screaming at _her._

"What?" Wesker was beside her-staring at the image, "That? Its nothing."

            "What the hell is up with these fucking paintings?" they were worse then the pictures that hung in the old haunted houses down in the Bayou, "This is like a haunted house, La maison d'esprits hantés."

"Hardly." Wesker grabbed her arm, "This way."

The two people walked in silence for a moment brooding on spirits that seemed to peek out from behind corners demanding blood from the several hundred employees of the Umbrella Corporation.

            "Where-Where did all these paintings come from?"

"They've been here since the mansion was built." Wesker pointed to the door of the woman's dormitories, "What floor?"

            "Fifth-but-Why? I mean-Sir Spencer was a great man-"

Wesker laughed.  The sound echoed off the hallway and made Annette shiver.

"Fifth floor." The door to the woman's dormitories actually led to an elevator, "going up." Wesker stood at attention beside the buttons-Annette stepped in quickly. 

"My feet hurt." She removed one of her heeled shoes, "Sometimes I hate being a woman." She rubbed the toes and sighed, "I would be so much more comfortable in pants and a shirt."

            "The modern woman." Wesker was absorbed by the reflective surface of the door.

"Let me give you some advice LeDour."

Annette froze.  Wesker's tone offered no chance to refuse. 

"Stay away from Birkin.  Stay away from this place.  Be with anybody besides an Umbrella employee." Wesker spoke in a monotone-like the man who offered directions if you called information, "You'll be doing yourself a favor-and you'll be living longer."

            "Was that a threat?" she said in a small voice.  All of her training was against her now, she was told to obey without question-any senior employee.

"No.  Merely, advice from a friend."

"Why would anyone want to hurt Birkin? He's just…"

He's funny, and smart, and kind when you get to know him.  He's loyal, one hundred percent dedicated to the company! Why would they have any reason to hurt him? 

            "He's insane." Wesker stared at her-his brown eyes were unnerving, a lot like Birkin's, "So am I, so are you Miss. LeDour."

Annette laughed shrilly, the elevator was so slow! She wished it would open-so she could flee from this serpent man-this daemon…

            "You don't think so?" Wesker leaned against the door of the elevator, "Only the insane survive in Umbrella-only they get promoted.  Ask Birkin someday Annette; ask him how he and I were chosen from the executive training faculty.  Ask him…who taught us."

"He'd never hurt me!" Annette cried, "He-He loves me!"

"I have no doubt of that." Wesker smirked, "You'd be very easy to love."

            Yet again there was a magnetic attraction.  Annette acquiesced leaning into his kiss against the elevator door.

Mon dieu! Are all men as starved for sex in this place as these two? 

"No!" she pushed him off of her, "No-not now-I'm with-I'm seeing-"

            "You're seeing him on the rebound." Wesker's eyes were wide-awake.  The elevator jerked to a halt.

The two gasped for breath.

            "How-How-"

"Listen-stay away from Birkin, he's insane-but you and I-"

"Get away from-" Annette shrilled, "I'll scream for a guard!"

He covered his mouth with hers.

            "You-" she pulled away from him again.  They were in the hallway now-delicate rooms patterned with roses, "You're married!"

Wesker took off his ring and put in his pocket, "That better?"

"Jesus!"

He kissed her again-the two stumbling to her room.  Wesker pushed her against the door as it succeeded like its owner.  Annette felt herself land on the soft mattress of her bed-completely absorbed in this man-

Then she knew nothing more.

-----------------------

Saturday. 

Silent Hill Airport.

William Birkin did not like big cities.  He liked small out of the way places where people could be private if they wanted to.  He'd lived in a big city for a good part of his young life-and it only brought terrible memories.

Silent Hill was the largest city near Raccoon.  Since the backward "peasant" folk who lived in the tiny Hamlet had never seen the need for an actual airport William Birkin was stuck making the two hour long drive to the airport to pick up Wesker's wife.

I wonder why he didn't want to come with me? 

            William turned onto the on-ramp-the distant skyscrapers of Silent Hill bright in the early morning sun.  He'd found Wesker in the breakfast room-and he'd seemed vehemently opposed to making any trek out to see her. 

William was glad for the opportunity.

            The airport was a sprawling complex made of glass and concrete.  No doubt it was designed to look like some sort of futuristic hanger-but the off color patterns and bright _large _hair of the various airport occupants ruined the effect.

I cannot wait until that fad passes. He thought to himself as he cruised past two women in spandex and gigantic spray-teased hair.  Dimly, he wished that Annette were with him…but she seemed to be avoiding him.

            As he parked the car and began the long trek to the airport he filled his mind with her-which somehow seemed to make the world of bright hair and colors more bearable.  He found himself less interested in his work (it too priority never the less) since becoming an offical, "couple" Annette was trusting and beautiful and-

Flight 1223 now arriving-flight 1223 now arriving-

"William!" 

            William found himself wrapped in the arms of a woman.

"I'm sorry-madam I-"

"Birkin? It's me? Remember?"

"Irene?"

            Irene Wesker smiled at her husband's friend.  William was a little thinner then she'd remembered-but a good boy never the less.  Albert could have taken a few lessons from him. 

"Is Albert here?" Irene glanced anxiously back behind Birkin, the look in her eyes confused, "He said he was going to come and pick me up-"

            "He said he wasn't feeling well today." William said.  He sighed, "He asked me to take you out to Raccoon.  He'll meet you at the mansion."

"Tell me the truth now William Birkin." Irene was older then both Wesker and himself, William realized.  He looked down at his feet and gestured helplessly at the exit sign.

"Is it another woman?" 

            "No!" William frowned.  Albert Wesker may be a cold-hearted murderer-and an arrogant asshole-but he'd never sleep with another woman.  Irene smiled, and William found himself thinking of Annette.  

"You're such a good friend to him William…" Irene began to walk towards the exit, William followed, "So You'll be the first to hear the good news…"

-----------

Arklay Labs

Saturday

Abigail Stone stared at the specimen intently, as if doing so would cause Mitosis to occur faster. 

            She brushed brown hair from her face and ignored the loud barking of the dogs.  The sample had come from a cadaver that was brought in yesterday-a man they found lying in the woods…

"Shut up!" she yelled at the dogs.  Dr. Birkin and Dr. Westlake's latest creations-the Cerberus were supposed to be better behaved then this.  They were trained to take orders and attack people-not bark like maniacs.

There was a loud crash from the back of the lab.

            "God Dammit." Abby swung away from the sample and looked back towards the morgue, "Mike? Mike is that you?"

Mike was the noon morgue attendant.  He was fond of playing practical jokes.

            Abby sighed and returned her attention to the biopsy sample.  Dr. Westlake would have a fit if she didn't have her report in on time.  

I ask you, if science is supposed to be reasonably leisurely-why the hell do they push us so hard to make progress? There were days when the senior researchers drove at them like slavers.  Abby sighed, vexations were all too common…

Another crash-this one far louder.  The Cerberus barking had strangely stopped.

"Hey-Mike?"

            Abby was suddenly aware of the warning that everyone was given when they first joined Umbrella…

Never go into the labs alone… 

And Abby stone started screaming then-and she did not stop.

-------------

Author's note: Wow! How creative! A love triangle! What could be Irene's good news? (As if we all couldn't guess) Why is Annette engaged with two men?  What Will William Birkin do when he finds out?  Why did this seemingly random story about a little known relationship include a side story about a girl and a bunch of dogs?

Birkin- cause it wouldn't be resident evil without some horror? 

Annette- I think the author is trying to say that sometimes horror can be in relationships and mankind can make their own horror dear.

Birkin- I'm not talking to you! You slept with Wesker! * Sniffles *

Author- Aww…

Birkin- stay the hell away from me! *** **Runs and hides* 

Well whatever.  Peyton Westlake is from "Darkman" (This explains why he ultimately ended up insane * lol * ) and Irene is a name I picked off a name site.  More to come.  


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three-I keep going and going and going…I'm like an insane version of the Easter Bunny! I mean Energizer bunny! Oh lets pray I get that job soon…

Author's note: Are you enjoying it so far? I am! Where would RE be without intrigue?  I'll start working on my Matrix stories after this one mebbe. 

-----------------------------------------

There is always some madness in love. But there is also always some reason in madness. 

**Friedrich Nietzsche (1844 - 1900), "On Reading and Writing**

------------------------------------------

1986

Arklay Labs- 

Basement.

Wesker and Annette were down in the basement with half the higher-up staff-trying to avoid looking at the bodies of the two technicians who had been…mauled.

            "Jesus Christ." Annette peered down at the wounds again, and then looked away, "Holy Jesus Fucking Christ."

"I think that sums it up accurately."

            Many scientists who had earned their spurs by cutting through zombies in the name of the greater well were throwing up outside in the corridor.  Work had-for all intensive purposes-stopped completely.  

" It doesn't look like there was forced entry…" Wesker appeared behind her.  Even _He _looked sick, "But whatever this thing was-it was big and it moved fast.  Very fast."

            "Would specimens have been stupid enough to bring in a bear?" Sometimes Umbrella sent out collectors into the woods searching for dead or wounded animals to take the tests that they devised.

Armed guards were everywhere-Annette backed into one who shrugged his weapon back into rest position-or at least what appeared to be rest position.

            "Whatever the hell it is…" Annette looked up to see Wesker talking to a man dressed all in black, "We need to make sure that it's contained." 

Indeed-if it wasn't contained there was a chance it could get out into the surrounding areas.  All of their projects would be exposed…

"Annette!"

Annette LeDour froze.

            William Birkin appeared in the doorway leading an attractive older woman who smiled shyly at all of them-and looked surprised to see Wesker.

"Get the goddamn civilians out of here!" the man in black cried, "We don't want them messing up the scene-"

            "Its all right." Wesker's voice was unusually flat, "Irene is an accomplished medical examiner."  He nodded to his wife, "Irene."

Irene Wesker stepped foreward gingerly each man in black backing away with the new status of her as his wife.

"William-do you have any thoughts?"

William Birkin said nothing-he stared at the glass and the great hole that had been made in the wall leading off into darkness.

"Whatever it was came in through the morgue-either it was brought in or it managed to crawl in." Irene said, "Notice the-"

"Negative." Annette pointed to the blood on the wall, "How could it have crawled in? We're under ground."

"My mistake." Irene smiled brightly, "Thank you for pointing that out ma'am." Irene's face lit up when she smiled, giving her the appearance of total innocence and trust.

Annette hated her.

            How can I hate her? She watched as Irene continued talking, her eyes on Wesker, That was wrong-I shouldn't have given in to him-I should think about William-I mean he's-He's… 

He-was a snot nosed brat.

Wesker was at least a man…

            "William? Do you have any thoughts?" Irene asked again.  She folded her hands across her front and smiled at the younger man-who was still staring out at the hole in the wall in awe.

"Whatever it is…" William studied the wall carefully, "It's still _here." _

Annette said nothing.

            "You really think so?" Wesker approached.  He moved like a jaguar, stepping over bodies like they were rocks.

Now that. Annette thought, That's style. 

"Maybe it oughta be just us Girls." Annette blinked and whirled about-her blond hair falling straight behind her.  

            Irene Wesker smiled and held out a hand, "Don't believe we've been formerly introduced." She smiled, perfect teeth, "I'm Irene."

"LeDour." Annette shook herself, clearing away the night before, "Annette LeDour."

            "What a pretty name." Irene smiled, "Shall we traverse the area? I'd love a tour."

Annette frowned, "Of the basement?"

"Oh no-the mansion.  I've always been a bit of an architecture buff." She held up a hand and whispered-like confiding it to a trusted friend, "I know you and I will be great friends." 

She looks like a puppy. Annette thought, as she watched the woman smile expectantly, And I have no goddamn food for her.  This is the woman that Albert Wesker married? This-This Sop? 

            "You ladies better leave us alone." The guards were coming in now black like shadows, "I doubt there's anything you can do here."

Annette chagrined, "But-I want to stay! Please…"

She looked to Wesker-who said nothing-instead glancing back towards the wall.  William tried to catch her eye-but-nothing.

            "Come on Darlin'" Irene had a twinge of the Midwest in her voice, "Lets go upstairs and get something to drink.  My nerves are rattled-I could do with a nice cold glass of water."

"But-"

"Go on." Wesker said, "Both of you."

---------------------------

William Birkin leaned against one of the destroyed tables, "Why did she do that?"

            Wesker was trying to salvage some notes that had been stepped on, "Who do what now?"

"Annette-she didn't say goodbye to me or anything." William's voice was small, but monotone, "And this morning…"

            Wesker smiled at his companion, bemused, "You? Lovesick? That doesn't sound like you.  I always thought you classified women with microorganisms that acted in an arbitrary manner."

" I blame my warped sense of values." William crossed his arms over his chest-his lab coat looking ridiculous, "And the fact that my father was an asshole."

"Is this the part where you wax poetic about your long lost childhood and how the only way you were able to "find yourself" was when you finally joined Umbrella?" Wesker had heard speeches like this before from his friend.

"No-well-no." William Birkin sighed, "What do you think it was?" 

He pointed to the wall.

            "In a word? Evil." Wesker's face grimaced, "A lot of bad things seem to be happening lately-"

"Says you." William smiled, "I'm in love with a beautiful woman."

Who said that was a good thing? He had no intention of telling his colleague about last night's romp in the polyester playground. 

"What are we going to do about it?"

"Go for a little intervention session." Wesker sighed, "I'm going to speak to a friend of mine in town."

            Here William frowned, "You can't "Go and speak to him." This is a private matter that must be handled by internal affairs-"

" But we need the help-and besides-he's trustworthy."

Wesker began to walk from the room.  Having Irene show up was an embarrassment-he'd made a mistake staying with Annette last night, especially since it had completely slipped his mind that his wife was coming.

Dammit…All I did was try to warn her about Birkin.  Now the little Bitch is smitten… 

He had to admit there was something tomcat like about Annette-something that turned him on immensely-but she was better off as far away from Umbrella men as she could get-

He left William alone.

            Birkin stared at the wall and pondered the meaning of Wesker's words, of Annette's actions, and of Irene's upcoming "New Arrival." He was happy for her of course-he'd attended Wesker's wedding as the single other witness besides the "Justice of the Peace" but…

He frowned.

            "I don't like relationships.  Relationships are complicated.  Science isn't complicated-science is easy.  Why are people so complicated?"

When he tried to unravel a problem in science-he _saw _the answer.  But people…

            It was like with Alexia.  That stupid little annoying bitch thought that she was so great-why did she have to think that? Why couldn't she just have gone on being a stupid little ten year old?  She was smarter then him…he'd admitted that on the long cold nights of warring with her image in his brain-but she was a girl! And she was young! A kid!

"Sir?" Kelly Wood, one of the medical technicians peered at him, "We have an ID on one of the victims-its Abigail Stone."

            Birkin was lost, "Who?" he did not bother to remember the names of his technicians-they were only there to have the purpose continue.

"Second ID-looks like it's Mike the Morgue Guy." Another man said, his voice echoing off the slowly emptying space, "Shit.  Mike always figured he'd die surrounded by dead bodies."

            "Remove the bodies and arrange for burial." He wondered who Wesker's friend was and what he would do to help them with this problem, "I want to know what killed these people Woods."

"That'll take me all night Sir."

"Then you'll work all night and all morning."

William Birkin turned on his heel and exited, leaving Woods and Her companions to growl behind him.

-------------------------------

Cafeteria.

Annette and Irene had settled behind a large potted fern in front of a window.  The man who usually played the large grand piano was absent; the normally cheerful groups of employees were quiet.

            "So Annette-can I call you Annette?"

Annette feigned an interested smile, and contemplated punching her in the nose.

            "You and William? That's so sweet dear." Irene took another sip of her water, "He was our witness at our wedding you know-a good man.  And a sweetheart-he had such a terrible childhood!"

" I bet." Annette muttered, "How long have you and Dr. Wesker known each other?"

            "He's not a doctor dear." Irene said smiling, "Neither of them are-although William's close.  His father was at Cambridge you know." She took another sip of her water.  Annette watched in envy.  Everything about this woman was elegant-graceful.  She didn't seem to mind that Annette had ribbed her every time she spoke and that she was ignoring her every word-her attention completely focused on her noodles.

She brooded.

            Whatever had shut down the labs for the day was still down there.  That meant that she wouldn't be able to work to distract her from this love triangle that had sprung up overnight.  

Damn.

            "You must take heart dear.  William's a good boy but a bit…off in the head." Irene leaned back in her chair, "He will provide-when he's not working."

"Oh yes." Annette muttered, "We'd all hate for Mr. Birkin to be off his feed.  Heaven forbid that man stop working.  Even on dates his conversations are all about work-but I'm sorry-I DON'T FIND BACTERIA ATTRACTIVE AND ROMANTIC!"

Annette Blushed as the entire cafeteria turned to her.  

"Now dear, you don't want to shout out things like that…" Irene smiled in a mothering way, "Do you?"

-----------------------

Author's Note: Yes.  Third Chapter is over.  What's wandering down in the labs…

Birkin-is the author's lame attempt to give the story some flesh because she find's romance stories boring.

* Author promptly whacks Birkin across the room *

Birkin- Owww…

Author: Thanks to Kelly who agreed to play method to my madness while my momentary source of inspiration * sadly, tis the Hulk * goes stomping off to Universal to find out why the heck they made an "Access Bruce Banner's Desktop" webpage on their webpage for the Hulk.

Can you honestly think of anything more pointless?

Chapter Four Forthcoming. 


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four: Ah-long summer nights are grand certainly.  I hope you all are enjoying this-I want to get his over wif so I can start my matrix fanfic.  I put a lot of work into this however so I really want some more reviews huh? Please? J 

1986

Raccoon City Fire House

Albert Wesker swore that someday they'd have more control over the police.

            The police were currently led by a Brian Irons-who was slowly being groomed (He had been for many years) to become the next chief in charge-and the next recipient of Umbrella's never ending stream of bribes and such.

In the meantime he was stuck with what he could work with.

And he wasn't working with this man.

            The Chief of the Fire Department sat across from Albert Wesker-studying the man intently. He was a younger man, with a crop of short brown hair and bright, warm blue eyes.

"Chief Redfield…"

            "Save your breath Mr. Wesker." Michael Redfield turned and walked to the window, "I can't help you."

"But Mike-"

"Oh come on Al!" Michael turned back to his desk and dropped into his seat, "My hands are tied on this.  My Nephew is Thirteen today Al, I wanna live to see him reach 20."

"This thing…can you think of anything it might be?"

Michael Redfield snorted, "Sure you didn't loose one of those "charming" surprises out in the woods?"

Wesker said nothing.  He let Mike walk back and forth a few times, then finally watched him sit back down at his desk in a slump.

            "Is this." He pointed to a picture frame nestled snugly on his desk, "Your family?"

Michael tipped the picture over so Wesker could see it better.

            A tall man, brown hair blue eyes, and a wife with long black hair-stood embracing two children.  The boy looked cross-angry with the camera and angry at the injustice of being captured in history forever, the girl looked cross as well-a long stain of dirt crossed her shirt and overalls-probably from the grass field behind them.

"Chris and Claire." Michael smiled fondly, "Aren't they cute?  I love kids.  I'd dearly love to have some of my own-if you catch my drift."

            "Your point.  Is quite clear." Wesker stood, "Sorry we couldn't do further business.  You one of the few people outside the corporation who is aware of mine and my colleague's transgression."

"Save it." Michael Redfield closed his eyes, "I didn't think it was possible.  I don't want to hear about how much I owe you."

"I'm sorry then."

Wesker sighed and left Michael's office.  Mike was a friend-at least he thought he was.  One of the few outside Umbrella-and-Wesker feared-one of the last.

----------------------

Arklay Labs

Kelly Wood had to find Annette LeDour.

            Kelly was from the same neck of the woods as Annette-even though she considered the older woman stuck up and slightly perverse (she was known to some of the younger recruits to be as bad as Birkin) it turned out that the claw patters were recognizable on two of the victims.

The Question is-how would one get here? Even if it is what I think it is? Which there's no chance it really could be because it doesn't exist.  I'm making up fairy tales because I'm so terrified that its one of our monsters gone wrong. 

            "Excuse me." Kelly brushed her long red hair from her face, "I'm trying to find Dr. LeDour-can you help me?"

"No." the scientist said curtly.  He moved off amongst the dorms.  Most people were confined to their rooms by self-will.  The threat of something roaming about that _wasn't _caged to a secure wall was frightening.

Kelly moved on.

------------------------------------

William found Annette sitting by herself at a table.

            "Hey!"

Annette said nothing.  She was focused entirely on her drink loosing more liquid to evaporation then to consumption.

William frowned, "Are you well?"

            "No." Annette said curtly, "I'm thinking and I don't want to be bothered." Secretly she wished she had someone to talk to-the whole situation made her feel worse-almost-then when Jack had broken up with her.

Birkin-sensing her lying, sat down across from her.

            His blond hair was matted with sweat-and his bright blue eyes were dark.  He still wore his lab coat-which made him seem even more pale-and zombie like.

William Birkin the good kid.  How insane are you? 

"You and Wesker have been acting like cats since last night." Birkin said, "I want to know why. The last thing I remember is I asking for the check-"

Then Wesker and I made love in the elevator and moved on to my bedroom. She stared at him, Its not that I don't like you its just that I don't feel comfortable…

_I was disloyal to you._

The pure truth of it shocked her.  It was like her grandmother Cassandra was in her ear, whispering what she really meant after shooing off various neighborhood children.  She stared at William and felt herself smile.

            He's dangerous and insane-

"If there's something going on I wish you'd talk to me about it. " he sounded hurt, "I may have never _been _with anyone but I want to make this work for you-"

"What about your work?" she found herself being snide in his presence, "I spoke with Wesker-"

The atmosphere around the table grew instantly cold.  Annette shivered and wanted nothing more then to leave this strange zombie-creature before her.

"What did he say?"

            "He-He said that you-you were insane." Annette said, "I got the feeling you and him have worked together for a while." The rest came spilling out, all of it-much to Annette's embarrassment.

" We were in the elevator after carrying you to your room and Wesker told me to stay away from you and from him because men like you aren't made for being tied down and you're insane.  Then he kissed me-god-and we-we-we had sex." She finished lamely.

Silence.

            "How the hell am I supposed to compare with your work? Already I feel myself wanting to make it my own-wanting to share it with you." She sniffled.  Somehow her outburst had been kept to a minimum-like the outburst in the sunny coffee shop two weeks ago, "I mean…William-"

William Birkin stood slowly.  He did not look at Annette as he walked calmly from the room, hands in his pockets.

"William…"

He walked out through the cafeteria's great double doors.

"William…"

Annette buried her face in her arms and reflected on how the world is a truly fucked up place.

-------------------------

Author's note: Sorry tis so short.  It's late and I wanted to leave things with a bit of a cliffhanger.  All triumphs need a few struggles to make them good-and I promise it'll get better for them-a bit.

Anyway-read and review for cookies and brownie points * yawn * I need to get some sleep.


	5. Chapter 5

Author's note: Once again I update. Thank you to my reviewers! * Huggles them * more reviews would be greatly appreciated.  My muse thrives on reviews like cookies wif peanut butter.  Keep feeding and the story keeps continuing.  I feel so squishie special!

*Cough * sorry, I've been watching "The Hours" lately.  On with the show!

Disclaimer: I don't own it-you've guessed that.  Bully for you. 

"Love has nothing to do with what you are expecting to get, it's what you are expected to give -- which is everything."   
-_Anon._

------------------------------------

1986

Annette dug herself into a corner-a terraced corner with a nice view of the forest.  When the world seemed perpetually screwed and the people perpetually lost-it was nice to get out in nature…

To get back to our roots. 

            She sighed and pulled out her book, a thick dog-eared copy of "A clockwork orange." And began to peruse the pages.  She liked Dystopian novels, stories about worlds where people revolved in an endless sea of nothingness searching for meaning distracted her from her own life and its woes.  A world where the monsters were fakes, and not real-made all the difference. 

She breathed in the scent of the forest.

And yet…it seems like the world doesn't deserve our ridicule… she put down the book and studied the distant tree tops-the bustling city that was a tiny speck on the horizon, It doesn't deserve our malice, our anger.  Who are we so angry with? She could think of several people in her own life that fit that description.

            Yet they were just people being people.  That was what it came down to-the fact that Irene and Wesker and…even Birkin were just doing what they knew how to do best.  And she stood among them.

Grandma Cass…if you could see me now. Annette LeDour mistress of monsters, Annette LeDour-horrible succubus, Annette LeDour…

            "Annette?"

Annette whirled about difficult to do in the cramped surroundings. 

            William Birkin stood at the very edge of the terrace.  He'd exchanged his lab coat for a regular shirt, and he wore jeans instead of his work pants.  He looked almost…normal.

"What the hell do you want?" he had every reason to be angry with her.  She had been angry with jack for doing the exact same thing she'd done.  If he wanted to break up with her that was fine-Wesker could be easily persuaded to…

            "I wanted…to say I'm sorry." William sat on the wood-afraid to approach her, his mannerisms like that of a whipped dog.

Annette frowned and brushed her short blond hair over her shoulder, staring at him with hard green eyes.

            "What do you have to be sorry for?" He was so arrogant! He assumed that every problem in the world was his province, every heart ache his machination, "I was the one who made the mistake.   I was the one who was…weak."

I was Disloyal.  For the first time in my life that's actually mattered with you. 

            "Wesker was right.  You should stay away from me.  From…everybody." He stared downward at a collection of small pebbles on the terrace, "Especially with this whole monster thing…I want to keep you safe."

"I can keep _myself _safe you arrogant ass." She faced him, "And as for you…."

            "As for me." His voice was cold, "I'm the monster everyone thinks I am.  Listen to Wesker, listen to your _friends _that seems to be the only good thing you can do." His eyes looked upward, right into hers, "LeDour."

"Oh please! All I want is a straight answer!"

            "Me too." Birkin laughed bitterly, "I dislike dealing in subterfuge and intrigue.  If there's one thing I'd like to be able to trust you enough to do-it's speak plainly about things."

"When we first met. I-" Annette Through down the book.  It tumbled to the edge and hung precariously before falling twenty or thirty feet to the forest floor below.

            "Shit." Annette stared down after it, "Shit."

"What Happened?" Birkin stepped cautiously foreward, "Why did you throw your book over the side?"

            "I didn't throw it over the side!" Annette muttered, "I was talking to you and I tossed it down angrily-there's a difference."  She stuck her nose in the air-then directed it downward at where her book lay below, "Damn it…"

            "I'll get it." Birkin stared over the edge, "Its not that far."

"You'll get yourself killed."

"No I won't." 

            The Terrace was little more then a plank-tacked to the roof of the house.  It was far away from the helicopter pad and other mansion requirements-and nobody had been able to remember who put it there.  Nearby-a fantastic old sentinel tree stood watch-shielding the radiology labs (that were also on this level) from human eyes.

Birkin-grabbed the tree.

            Annette watched in fascination as he shimmied down the larger part of the trunk easing him along by grabbing branches and finding the right footholds.  He reached the bottom, leapt down, and grabbed her book.

"Here!" He held it up to her-as if offering it to some goddess, "Come get it."

"What?" she was 24 years old-she did not go climbing around in trees for her health, "Bring it back to me!"

"No!" 

Her smile mirrored his. 

            She reached a hand up and tentatively grabbed one of the larger branches.  The wood was old-worn under her palms.  She stepped onto a smaller branch-that bent precariously before she found her footing.

"That's it!" Birkin's voice was small, "Now climb down!"

Easy for you to say. Annette thought, pissed that arrogant bacteria Birkin-her boyfriend of two weeks-could climb like a fucking monkey.

She reached for another branch.

            This one was different; it was hard and brittle with a solid root.  She grabbed it tightly and swung her weight over to another smaller branch- lower then her previous footing.

"Keep coming!" Birkin's voice seemed father away as she receded from the mansion's protective walls, "Come on, Keep coming!  You can do it!"

Could she do it?

            She took it slowly, reaching for one branch and then another.  The sun was climbing low in the skylights in the mansion were beginning to flick on.  There would be guards posted in the lower levels watching for whatever it was-making sure that it didn't come back-

Put that away. Her mind whispered like the wind in the tree around her, There's no lab, no work-there only here and now. 

            The woods took on an especially wonderful scent as she reached the last leg of her journey.  Birkin stood next to the tree, hands behind his back-eyes focused on her and her progress.  Jack would have made jokes-who knows what Wesker would have done…only he…

Only Birkin would have waited for me. She felt her foot touch the solid base of the tree, Only he-

            She lost her footing and stumbled backward screaming.  She felt her body connect with another-and the two went spiraling onto the grass.

She rolled for a minute-laughing-her body entangled with his-before she came face to face with the purple autumn evening and the warm dark familiar smell of the forest.

            "You did well." Birkin was behind her, his arms around her body, "Really well.  Better then I did when I first made the climb." 

Annette pushed herself away from him, "Why…why did you make me do that?" he was always daring her-pushing her.  In the labs, in life, with the tree…

            Birkin looked confused, "I did nothing of the kind.  All I did was tell you.  You made the decision to climb down."

"But I didn't want to.  I wanted-I wanted to-"

I didn't want to shame you. 

            Birkin was looking at her with his blue eyes-like the morning glory that intertwined the deeper trees in the forest.

Before she knew what she was doing-she was laid in the grass by a gentle hand-and she knew nothing more.

-------------------------------

Irene's room

Irene lay back onto the soft pillows and stared at the detailed canopy above her.

            "I'm sorry I couldn't come earlier." Wesker appeared in the doorway like a serpentine shadow, "My dear." 

Irene stared at her husband-her hair artfully jostled across the collection of lavender pillows.  Her eyes were gentle-as she regarded the man she loved.

            "Its alright.  I'd wait for years for you, my dear." Irene laid a hand across her breast having changed into her sleeping clothes, "I was so tired from my flight, I thought I'd take a little rest before coming to see you."

"Its good that you did." Wesker crossed the room, stepping slowly across the carpet; "I've been setting guards below in the lab."

            "To keep your people safe." Irene nodded, "You're always concerned about keeping people safe."

"About that-"

"I know." Irene held up a hand, "About Annette."

            Wesker did not bother to ask _how _his wife knew that he had slept with another woman.  There was something…urethral about Irene and what she saw.  She was delicate-yet with a hard unyielding side to her as well.

"Do I owe you an apology?" he looked uncomfortable, "It was a spur of the moment issue."

            Irene regarded him with her eyes, "You are a man, and you have a man's needs.  I can accept this."

"I'm afraid to ask _how _you knew about it." Wesker sat himself next to her gingerly, not wanting to disturb her gossamer exterior, "You always seem to know what I do-or what your boss does.  Its like you can see through people."

            "Anybody can see through people." Irene reached a hand up, caressing his face, "It just takes a practiced eye and a keen knowledge of human nature."

"Knowledge that I've never possessed." Wesker chuckled, "Pity, I'd be good in internal services if I did."

Irene inclined her head, "You would."

            "Why do you stay with me?" Wesker asked.  

For a moment his veneer slipped away and he was almost as boyish and uncertain as his friend who lay outside in the grass.  It was hard to forget that the two gentlemen had come from the same past-with no one to miss them unless they broke out of their shells and asked someone to.

"Because I love you.  Love has nothing to do with what you are expecting to get, it's what you are expecting to give-which is everything." 

            "You were never one to quote people at me Irene." Wesker held his wife close, desiring nothing but the safety of her arms, "Why would anyone be willing to give himself or herself so completely to someone?" 

Irene's voice was a whisper in his ear that seemed the whispering of the wind itself, "Because that's what love is."

Wesker said nothing.

            "It's simple.  Why would the earth give herself so completely to her children? Why does the postman give himself over to giving others good news, good tidings? Why does the photographer give himself to capturing other people's happy moments?" she paused and smiled up at Wesker-night deepening outside.

"Why would William Birkin give himself so completely to his work?"

            "They want something?" Wesker was confused.  Outside the old tree began to rattle against the windows, "Everybody wants something.

"No.  They give themselves because they find their purpose.  They find their meaning, their calling.  Some save, some destroy, some create.  This is the way of the world."

            "If that's Birkin's meaning I feel sorry for him." Wesker laughed out loud, "To devote his life entirely to his work-god, that poor sad man."

"At least he has a meaning." Irene's marble skin went cold, "Unlike you.  You're restless."

            "No I'm not." Albert Wesker backed away from his wife.  He crossed the lavender carpet.  The walls were covered with faded flowers.  They looked like something from Wes Craven. 

Damn Spencer! Damn him and his creepy mansion. 

            The wind whistled outside.  Irene seemed at home amongst the lavender bedspread and sheets, a marble ghost.

"You're a wolf.  A restless wolf without a pack, they made you that.  You told me about how much you think Spencer chose you and Birkin for a purpose.  Perhaps he did."

"No…you-Irene stop." His voice was cold, "Just stop it alright?"

            "As you wish." Irene lay back, "I think I'll rest some more."  She laid her marble limbs back on the bedspread and sighed, breathing in the must and decay of the sepulchre that was the mansion, the house, the room

His life.

He walked forward to the bed again and lay down beside his wife.

---------------------------------------

Forest.

"Its so beautiful." Annette lay back and stared at the trees, the canopy of night pulled over the two of them and the entire world like a great blanket.

            "It is."

And so are you. 

            Annette turned to him-leaves in her short blond hair making her seem like a nymph or dryad who lay under the trees, "You were telling me about Dr. Marcus."

Birkin swallowed, "It's so beautiful out here-I don't want to talk about him.  Please Annette."

            "If you want me to trust you.  You have to tell me." She laid a hand on his chest, "I won't hate you."

Yes you will.  You'll run to Wesker again, great stinking self assured fool that he is.  And I'll be left alone with my daemons. 

            "William, darling…" Annette lay her head against his chest, in perfect love and trust, "I'm asking you…please…"

"When I was a kid my father read me this poem." He pushed her off his chest, his hand lingering on her cheek, "By Poe. "Spirits of the Dead" or some such thing.  I was maybe seven-eight maybe.  The second stanza of the poem described Dr. Marcus perfectly:

Be Silent in that solitude, Which is not loneliness-for then The spirits of the dead who stood 

_In life before thee are again_

_In death around thee-and their will_

_Shall overshadow thee: be still._

Birkin finished the poem in a single breath-taking careful note of each line, "It was like he was trying to escape from some kind of ghost-something he'd done in another life that he hadn't been forgiven for.   His ghosts were all around him and Spencer made it worse I think.  He'd spend all his time in the lab at the management training faculty working." He sighed, "I don't normally recite poetry about people who I hated."

" He sounds like you." Annette teased.  She silenced herself when she saw the look Birkin gave her-full of grief and despair.

"He was.  A lot like me I mean." Birkin looked down at his feet, "He was the first to start experimenting with actual people-with actual living human beings." He sighed, "A lot of my colleagues _disappeared. _Stupid rumors about monsters that got you if you were bad-that sort of thing.  We were just kids."

            "You were just kids." Annette lay on her hands in the twilight, "It must have been hard knowing your friends were…dying." She had seen a man die once.  He'd lit himself on fire during Mardi gras.  It didn't seem…_real _until her grandmother had covered her eyes and told her to look away from the strange float that was screaming.

She sighed and twisted over onto her back, looking up at him.

            "Before long the order came through to terminate him." Birkin said, "We were ordered to replace him-so we had to go with the team to make sure that the job was…done correctly."

Annette frowned, "You were there."

"Yes."

            She tried to imagine what that must have been like.  Marcus's transgressions had to have been covered up-the company couldn't let it slip that they had a psycho in their midst-it would mean lost funding from their contributors…

What contributors? This company was funded by two people-two "Lords" what kind of people would fund something like this? 

She shivered and suddenly wondered if it had been wise to accept that man's offer two years ago. 

"Anyway.  We assassinated him.  Well not us-a team of well-placed operatives broke into his labs and shot him while he was working.  We came in to make sure…he was dead."   The plan had been for Wesker to finish the job if the commandos hadn't taken care of it and for William to continue on with his work.

All of Dr. Marcus's work.

            "Was he dead?"

"The last thing I heard him say was my name." Birkin drew his knees up under his chin, "I was-fifteen maybe at the time." He sighed, "Wesker laughed about it afterwards.  I couldn't laugh…I was too-excited."

            Annette nodded, "You got to continue on with his work.  History will absolve you.  You've come so far…"

"Yes." William said, "I have come far."  He looked at her-his eyes glowing in the evening that was descending faster now, "I was disgusted with myself after this occurred however.  I watched the man who had been my mentor die with such satisfaction…"

He remembered the day vividly.  

            The way Marcus had looked up at him-blood pouring from multiple wounds.  His beloved leeches surrounding him-feasting upon his flesh. 

And how he'd laughed.

I will take over your research. William looked away from Annette, Well I did.  Where has it gotten me? Nowhere. But it had felt so good to watch the man who had killed his colleagues, who was inferior-the old generation-

It felt good to watch him die.

"What scares me most is the…satisfaction I felt when he died.  I _knew _I'd be able to do a better job then he did.  I knew it and I wished him dead."

            Annette examined him.  She'd felt the same during medical school-it was the natural and healthy desire to win that was causing these feelings.

I wish I could say something to him that would make him feel better. She thought, as she hugged him tightly, something that would make him-

"The mansion!"

Annette blinked, "Beg Pardon?"

            "The mansion! We've been out here for hours!" night had settled completely, the mansion's lights burning like an oasis in a black desert, "Come on! We've got to get inside!"

"How?"

"There's a service entrance around the back." Birkin said, "We can get in if we dig.  Come on!"

--------------------------

Author's note: yay! Chapter five! Kind of a cliffhanger and for that I apologize.  Chapter six is on the horizon-and it looks like I may be starting work! Yahoo!

Btw- ignore the whole "poetry thing" Birkin kinda has a soft side.  This entire chapter was supposed to be about how love is really about giving rather then getting.  Something I Think a lot of people don't get.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six: Look! Already we're on Chapter Six! Thanks for the Reviews! They really keep me going, as does the story.  I seriously like what I'm doing with this-its like-a breakthrough for me.

Anyway on with the show!

---------------------------------------

Flashback

1978

Friday

Dr. Marcus turned the leeches' corpse over, exposing its soft underbelly and stickers.  The air was hot and musty-from the downed air conditioning.  He was wearing a breathing mask however-so the toxic fumes of his beloved virus would do nothing to endanger his being…

They wouldn't harm me anyway. He thought.  Confidence that was what he needed to show Spencer.  Confidence just like what Wesker and Birkin had-those damn young pups…

            "I know he brought them in to replace me." Marcus said to the leech, "The question is why?  Could he have found out about my little…escapades?"

The leech, as a matter of reply-twisted its body back and forth like a snake being tortured.  Marcus smiled and raised the scalpel cutting directly down the middle.

Ah, those of lower intellect will never be able to share the joy… 

He turned up as he heard a thud.

            James Marcus had no time to react-let alone scream.  The Two commandos raised their guns and fired-the bullets ripping into him…

He was on the floor looking _up _at Wesker.

We…Wesker… Why? 

"Aww, Time to Die Dr. Marcus." Wesker leaned back.  Dimly out of the corner of his already fading vision Marcus made out the distinct outline of fifteen-year-old Birkin.

"I will take over your research." Then Birkin threw back his head and _laughed.  _The perfect caricature of the mad scientist.

"We…Wesker…B…Birkin…" with his last amount of strength he twisted his head sideways…

And let the leech envelop him.  It changed him-he was no longer the horrible grandfather figure with his bald head-but a young man with a long head of hair and a horrible _monster. _It reached for the two of them-there was no time to get out and the commandos would be useless…

-----------------------

1986

"Holy Christ!"

Irene stirred beside Wesker, "Did you have a nightmare darling?" she looked voluptuous in her nightgown-but here eyes were cold.

            "Yeah." He sighed, "I can't believe I had _that _dream again."

Irene rubbed his shoulder fondly, "Have you ever talked to William about it? Maybe he feels the same way you do."

"No." Wesker shook his head, "Men aren't as open as women.  I still don't know how you figured out the entire Annette Thing." 

"I have my ways." Irene peered outward.

            The two had fallen asleep three hours again-the merry noise coming from "below decks" indicated that they had missed dinner-or at least that they were in the process of having it.  Outside night had fallen thickly like a black blanket over the world.  Irene shook herself and stood her marble skin pale in the night.

"Where do you think William and Annette are?"

"I have no idea." It would be nice to see "Tomcat" Annette again-but he could live without knowing what William was doing.  Irene had a thing for him-but Albert Wesker had known William Birkin longer then any of them.

He could live without knowing what was going on.

---------------------------------------------

Outside

The heavens opened.

            They opened upon the Raccoon City firehouse, on most of raccoon, and the surrounding woods.

Which means that-William Birkin and Annette LeDour were caught in the downpour.

"Jesus!" Annette peered upward at the darkening sky accusingly, "Why the heck did you have to go doing this?"

            "Don't blame Jesus now." Birkin shook himself, "Blame a formation of clouds occurring at the right time and right place."

"Its wet!" Annette moaned, "And Cold! I want to get back inside!" back inside she could hide herself down in the labs to think upon the events of the afternoon and evening.

            "Law and Order's on." William muttered as he walked a few feet away from her, "And it's a new episode!"

"You like Law and Order?"

"You don't?"

"This." Annette put her hands on her soaking hips, "Is a point in your favor."

            As the two crept around the back of the house-the world became less dark and more-wet.  Annette's T-shirt was drenched-and opened to the waist revealing her undershirt.  William's shirt was off-and his jeans were black-tight against his skin.

"Isn't there supposed to be a patrol watching the back?" Annette yelled above the rain, "It doesn't look like there's anybody here!"  
            "No." in the dim outline of the rain William could see the gray humps that made up the back of the mansion.  It was mainly where the security team stored…security personnel.  There would be someone there who could let them in. 

He hoped.

His hope grew faint however, as he and Annette approached the squat buildings with the rain pouring down.  The dark obscured everything-making it appear like they were surrounded on all sides by hostile monsters.

"This is creepy." Annette gripped his shoulder, "Really-REALLY creepy." She whimpered and William let her stay hooked to his arm.

This would actually be nice. He was stuck out in the middle of a very wet world with a half-naked woman.  Now if only the rain weren't coming down so hard…

"William?"

            "Yeah?" their proximity brought their faces within inches.  Annette's green eyes were wide with terror.

"I'm a medical doctor…so I'm hoping that I'm wrong…but what's that hanging on the gate?"

            He stared foreward.  The gate Annette was speaking of was made of rot Iron-some god awful fifties relic that was out of place at the front-and so had been shoved to the back.  And on the gate…

"That's a head."

"That's what I thought." From their vantage point it looked like a head of cabbage, or maybe a tomato-something large and red and pulpy.

"No, it's a severed head."

Annette fainted.

--------------------------------

A few minutes later

"You okay?"

            "Wha?" Annette peered upward into William Birkin's rain streaked face, his eyes full of concern.

"Aw shucks Auntie Em, there's no place like home.  There's no place like home…"

Birkin slapped her, hard.

"What?" she shook herself, "What happened?"

"You fainted.  There's a severed head on the gatepost." 

"That's really charming Birkin."  Annette had fallen into mud-which was now splattered all over her pants, "Really-fucking charming."

            "I'm totally serious.  You don't think I'd _know _what a severed head looks like?"

Annette contemplated this.

"Well-what do we do about it?"

Birkin bent his head.  The rain was oblivious now, no more then a background in their world.  Annette yawned as Birkin stood up, and walked towards the wrought iron gates.  She studied his rear intently for a moment-then slapped she.

            This is too weird. It was like something out of a bad horror flick-or worse- a bad porno flick. 

If he offers to drag me to a secluded canyon with the book of the dead. 

"Sir!"

"There you are!"

Several commandos in black appeared out of nowhere.

"Mr. Wesker is expecting you." Birkin hauled Annette to her feet and stared at the two men-fear in both their eyes.

-------------------------

Meanwhile…

"I love you too." Michael Redfield said, as he hung up the phone.  Claire was a sweet kid-Chris at thirteen was getting hard to control.  He didn't envy his brother in the coming years…

Who the hell are you kidding?  You wish you had a few kids Michael slumped into an armchair and sighed.  Before him on his worn out coffee table sat a slice of pizza and a beer-his usual supper.

"Damn."

            The game wouldn't be on for another hour-the rain outside would make it difficult for the reception to get through.  He was the chief of the fire department-why the fuck couldn't he afford a better house?

Michael stretched and padded to the kitchen to get a glass of water.  Lighting flashed-silhouetting the back of the house in front of him.  He ignored the shadow that was shifting its way along the Peterson's back porch as he filled a glass with slightly dirty water and padded back to his chair for the game.

"Ah! Redfield! Here in your house you are king." He raised the remote in salute to his own greatness and changed it to channel 6.

"Tonight on Fox: Authorities speculate about weird rumors circulating around the Umbrella Corporation.  FBI authorities in Silent Hill led by Special Agent Callahan and Forensic Director Mitchell believe that-"

The familiar sports theme began to play as the Knicks took on the Celtics.

-----

About a half an hour into the first quarter Michael awoke to a THUMP on his door.

            "What?" he peered over at the green alarm clock.  10:30.  Too fucking late for people to be wandering about.  He might have to call Roxanne at the RPD and have her haul the bum away from his doors.

He padded to the door, completely oblivious to the red lights that were flashing down the street.

            He smelled the blood first, the stank reek of fresh death.  He recoiled instinctively as the weight of the body forced his door open further, causing the corpse to sprawl across half his hallway.  

---------------

Author's note: Wet men and women-a severed head-and a fresh corpse! What more could you ask from RE? Enjoy muchly.  Chapter Seven is ON THE WAY! 


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven: I can at least get a head start on this.  I REALLY want to get started on Avalon (My Matrix fanfic) but this is good too.  I'm having fun can you believe it?  More thanks to reviewers.  I'm starting this at the same time I finish Chapter Six.  I hope people like it.

Pinquicha- thanks for sticking with it! It's been a while since I've read Wesker's report. (Grumbles) consider it amended.  * Should have remembered* and about William forgiving Annette that easily…the story's not over yet. ;) *Is pleased you like this fic so much  * 

Insanity in individuals is something rare - but in groups, parties, nations and epochs, it is the rule. 

**Friedrich Nietzsche**

-----------------------

1986

The rain continued to pour as the commandos that Wesker had sent out returned with their charges.  He and Irene had gone to William's room-and then to Annette's.  Someone said they'd seen Dr. Birkin and Dr. LeDour heading up to the old terrace on the roof so…

            Annette's shirt was unbuttoned and her undershirt was thoroughly soaked.  William was shirtless-the two of them looked like rejects from a bad pornography movie. 

"For Chrissake." Wesker stood arms akimbo, "You two are _adults." _

            "Wesker-there was a _head _on top of the gate!" Birkin said, "A severed head, just sitting there!"

"What does that have to do with why you were out there in the first place?"

Birkin bent his head.  Both his head and Annette's were the same color-a dark mud on the marble of the entrance.

"Whatever that thing is-it's _still _here.  And it's getting smarter.  You need to let me go down to the labs."

            "The labs are still locked down." One of the commando's said, "Dr. Birkin." Birkin stood, the water running down from him in pools.

"Regardless-why were the two of you out there?"  He peered out into the night.  One of the guards had left the door open, "I thought you would have come in when it started to rain…"

"We were tree climbing." Annette offered lamely.  He stared _down _at her-reminding her of the night before last…

            "Tree-climbing?" Wesker raised an eyebrow, "I wouldn't have expected that from a pair of scientists…particularly from you William."  Wesker sighed, "Get the hell outta here."

"Who?" William muttered, "Us?"

"No, the group of eight or nine people behind you." Wesker growled at the commandos, "Go! Get me woods."

            "Woods Sir?"

"Yes, Medical Examiner for the faculty.  Long red hair-affinity with the dead.  Go _quickly _and take Dr. Birkin with you to make sure that he sees all the details that wood has been required to provide to him."

"Yes Sir."

"Annette-will you wait for me?"

Annette blinked, "What?"

            Birkin's eyes strayed towards Wesker; the look in his own bright blue eyes was pleading, "Wait for me? I'll be right back-it shouldn't take more then a few minutes." 

"I-"

"Dr. Birkin." Wesker smiled, "The matter is urgent.  Dr. Woods has been asking for you for some time." 

"I'll go in a minute." He glared at Wesker, "Please…Annette…"

"You'd better go." She put a hand on his, soft, "I'll see you later okay? Don't worry-you saved me from the severed head."

            Birkin glanced back at Wesker, his eyes studying his friend's face-then he followed the commandos out.

Wesker and Annette were alone.

"He climbed down the tree to get my book." Annette said, "I was touched.  From there things…just sort of went."

Wesker said nothing.  He had on sunglasses (odd, considering its raining outside, and its nighttime) and she had the distinct feeling that he was…thinking horrible thoughts behind those eyes.

            "Listen…Wesker." 

You don't want Birkin, you want a real man.  There's something there for William but…there's something for Wesker too. 

Wesker remained silent.

"I mean-technically I'm still with William."

He was on her in moments-kissing her.  I'm soaking wet.  I'm locked in an embrace with a married man and I'm soaking wet. 

She needed to laugh.

            "Please…" he was half dragging half walking her over to a nearby room.  The two rooms off of the main hall were used mainly for conferences.  It was a dining room-seemingly empty with a horrific statue of a dragon clutching a body-man or woman she could not guess.

Her attention was understandably preoccupied.

"Please-Wesker-no-"

She shuddered in pleasure and stopped protesting as he lay her down beneath the dragon like an offering.  Woman. The naked body that the dragon held in its claws was a woman, It's a Woman. 

And there was nothing more.

-------------------------------------------

1986

"I've made a few amendments to my original report." Woods handed Birkin a manila folder.  The two of them were standing in the mansions bowels-named aptly because they smelled just as foul, "It wasn't…a primate of unknown origin."

"That's good to know." Birkin snorted, "For a minute I thought you were telling me tales about Bigfoot marching into our labs and taking vengeance for encroaching on our forest." 

            "It may be like that sir."

Birkin sighed, "I hope you aren't really considering that Woods."

            "Three people have disappeared sir.  Employees are walking the halls in fear." She bent her head, "We're all in yours and Dr. Wesker's hands sir.  Will you keep us safe?"

"Oh please!" Birkin cried, "Will I keep you safe? No! You've lived her long enough, been responsible for enough experiments-enough _death _to accept responsibility for your own actions."  He shook himself.  A few minutes earlier he'd been standing in the hallway next to the woman he loved.  Several hours ago he'd been speaking to her.  Now he was chasing monsters.

"As you wish sir." Woods walked away, "I've got other things to attend to.  The identification of the head that was found on the gate." She shook herself, "I don't like rain."

"Best dress warmly then." Birkin did not glance at her again." His attention was focused completely on the report in front of him.

Medical Log

Examiner: Kelly Margaret Woods

Date: March 15, 1986

It is important to note that the bodies were eviscerated with a five pronged object-in either similar design (construct?) to a human hand or lizard claw.  We have yet to see any evidence of reptilian activity however so we must assume that the killer is of the primate class in origin.  

Note: The second Victim-Morgue worker-had a lacerated wrist.  Although his head was crushed in at three different points…

Birkin sighed; Michael had been an enjoyable sort.  A bit too enjoyable.  If you lost your focus in this particular business it was going to get you killed.

The laceration occurred first.  This was the wound that killed him-and we unearthed a human set of teeth marks on the body.

Human teeth marks… his suspicions were suddenly very dark and terrifying.  They weren't far away from, "The place" after all…

No team's been sent in since it was closed down after we left! How could we have been so stupid? Something might have gotten out. 

He shivered.  Dark things had gone on in those labs.

            He turned on his heel, out and away from the darkness-back to the light where Annette awaited.

--------------------------------------------

Irene Wesker's room 

Irene lay back against the pillows, a half an hour ago she'd sent Wesker out to go find Birkin and LeDour.  There were days-when she got these _feelings _about people…

Like right now. Wesker wanted a woman who could match his passion-and Irene knew that he considered her a somewhat cold fish.  When they married it had been more about attraction of the moment then a long lasting love.  There was something that they'd _shared._

She could be patient because she still felt that connection.

Let him sleep with all the women he needs to. She was the ideal wife in this aspect-she overlooked her husband's infidelities.  She had faith that he'd come back to her-and he had.  

In trying to fulfill some strange Oedipal complex. He'd confided one night in the throes of passion that she reminded him on an unconscious level of his mother.  That was only slightly frightening.

She studied the ceiling, and then stood.  The small green alarm clock read 2:30; all good employees were in their beds dreaming sweet dreams.

            She walked over to her suitcase-still sitting against the wall from where William had carried it that morning.  Pants, shirt, etc-she emerged from her room fully dressed and ran straight into a redhead who looked worse for wear.

"Are you alright?" Irene believed that Umbrella overworked its employees-either driving them insane or forcing them to have a nervous breakdown so they could not reveal company secrets.

            "Yeah." The red head wiped dust from her eyes, then yawned, "I just had to give some medical exam reports to Dr. Birkin.  Dr. Wesker's down there with Birkin's girlfriend-Dr. LeDour."

Irene said nothing.  Her face was a marble mask. 

Just like I expected… 

            "Have you seen Dr. Birkin?" 

"He's down in the lower levels." The redhead said, "Mrs. Wesker…maybe you could go talk to him?" 

Irene nodded.

-------------------------------

Video Monitoring

Lower Levels

William Birkin was staring at the screen in shock.

            There in black and white-was an image of his girlfriend and his _best _friend engaged flagrant intercourse.  The entire mansion was asleep otherwise they would have been caught. 

He continued watching them.  The video feed was bad-like images from a bad hotel room in some kind of horrible nightmare.

My Nightmare. 

He wanted to weep.

            Umbrella did not like their employees to show any emotion however-so William Birkin watched and brooded.

I'm so fucking Naïve. He'd figured that Wesker was just boasting.  He'd only arrived a night ago and he tended to make inappropriate jokes. He hadn't believed that _his _girlfriend would have done that.

Any of it.

But then again science was easy-and science dictated that women would go for the stronger male.  The more dominate creature that would be able to successfully protect them and allow them to bear strong offspring.

This was what women did…wasn't it?

            His own mother had been like that-a foolish whisp of a woman who had allowed his father to get on with whatever indiscretions he saw fit to perpetuate.  She had allowed him to beat her whenever his blood was up these were also his rights as husband.

Were they?

            Since coming to work for Umbrella he had discovered that men and women looked for more then just sexual gratification in partners.  That was why he had selected Annette-she had…a drive to her that other women did not.  Even that annoying Alexia did not compare with Annette…who was intelligent as well as beautiful…

Is there more then that? He frowned and continued watching her, Maybe she's not any different from my mother.  Or from Irene. Or any other woman.  I thought-she was so…like me… 

"William?"

            The Darkness of the room lifted for a moment as Irene Wesker entered-her delicate features traced with grief.

"William, are you alright?"

"Perfectly fine." It's easy to hide my emotions away.  I've always had to.  Never mind that my girlfriend is down there with _your _husband satisfying a thousand year old desire for good sex. 

It was more then the hurt feelings-it hurt his _pride. _

"I know you aren't fine." Irene stepped closer.  In the darkness of the room he looked like a ghost wrapped in his lab coat for comfort, "I know what you're watching." Her brown hair was done up in a bun at the nape of her neck, and her eyes were kind.

"Watching? Trash.  Filth-absolute filth."  Birkin clenched his hands, "I was so trusting.  That's not a mistake I mean to make again."

            "You're so tense!" Irene began to rub his shoulders-which did nothing to distract from the image, "You need to understand that…well-Wesker's had needs like this for as long as I've known him…"

"But she's my-"

"Your girlfriend." Irene said, "I know.  You forgave her once.  She doesn't know what she's doing."

            Birkin barked out a laugh, "Right.  I'm president of the fucking Umbrella Corporation! No, wait-I'm Dr. James Marcus! No, I'm the fuckin' King of England-"

Irene slapped him.

            Birkin staggered back a few feet hitting against the monitor.  Irene folded her arms across her chest and stared down at him.

"The only reason why she's doing this is because she maybe things you aren't man enough for her-but you've already deduced that by scientific reasoning haven't you?"

"We-Well."

"Shut up Birkin.  You said you've been together for two weeks-what does this mean? Have you done anything besides go out for dates and talk in the lab?"

            William Birkin frowned-staring at the floor.  He did not want to give Irene the satisfaction of having her look at him in the eye; he had taken their relationship for granted. 

"You fool, you naïve little boy…" Irene got down on her knees, "Wesker and I…do things together outside of work.  Not a lot of women will be contented with dinner dates.  You took your relationship for advantage.  And now you're suffering for it."

"But she betrayed me!" Birkin's voice squeaked, "And I loved her!"

            "Did you ever tell her that?"

William Birkin said nothing.

            He never told Annette about his feelings.  He had first let his passion overrun him-and in his zealous desire to pursue her as a mate he had failed as a human being.

"Say it." Irene put a hand on his shoulder, sitting across his front, "Say what you have to say.  No one's watching.  No one's listening but me" Her voice was calm, "Say it William Birkin."

"I…Failed."

Irene stood up, "Good." She ruffled his hair, "I've always thought of you as a younger brother Will.  So, I'm going to help you."

"How can you help me." Birkin slammed a fist down on the ground, "I'm fucking worthless!"

            "Not to me my friend." Irene sat back in one of the chairs, "Albert will grow tired of Annette soon I hope."

"How do you put up with him?" William Birkin brushed off his pants.  Outside dawn was creeping through the windows, "With all that he does-he doesn't even care about you! He-he says things-"

            "One thing you have yet to learn about human nature William-is that people are capable of enduring much more hurt and pain then a single affair can cause." Irene closed her eyes, "and I've seen many."

            "I couldn't be that forgiving." But even as he said it the words caught in his throat.  He had forgiven Annette the first time-he had accepted her so completely-but it had been his fault-

William put his hands on his head, "This is confusing!"

"I know it is." Irene smiled, "But there's another matter we must discuss…."

--------------------------------------

Outside Michael Redfield's Home.

Michael Redfield, Alexander O'Neal, and Mrs. Delaney were staring down at the body that had dropped itself directly across his doorstep.

            "Well." Sherry Delaney was Thirty-two, a police coroner, and a personal friend of Michael Redfield, "He's dead."

"Brilliant Sherlock." Alexander O'Neal was the cop assigned to the case, "Absolutely fucking brilliant-you know I'm proud to be spending my tax dollars on such intelligent-"

"Shut up O'Neal." Michael peered at the corpse, "How long?"

            "Well that's the funny thing." Delaney said, "The body is showing late stages of decay-this guy shouldn't have been able to walk around the way his body was decomposing.  It's almost as if he was hit with something.  Look here." She raised a wrist, "See the lacerations? This guy was _chewed on." _

"But he must have struggled." O'Neal said, "Hence the blood on the door."

            "I'm amazed he was able to crawl this Far." The sirens were far below them-flashing like a distant midway, "Mike? Can you think of anybody that might be a homicidal psychopath in the area?"

"Not who…" Michael regretted the word the moment it was out of his mouth, "Nothing." He dismissed it, "Nothing at all.  No-one I mean."

            "That's a relief.  I'd hate to think we'd have fuckin' Hannibal Lector for a neighbor." O'Neal laughed, "This is a nice town-not like New York eh Delaney?"

"No." Sherry Delaney studied Michael-who found something very interesting on the floor, "Not New York."

            "Sherry can I speak to you for a moment?" 

Sherry Delaney's short blond hair was soaked with sweat.  Her hands were covered in blood and her uniform was stained in various places-but she nodded and followed Michael into his apartment-her green eyes serious.

            "What the fuck do you want me to do?" O'Neal whined, "I have to go explain to Chief Irons that we have a mad stabber loose-and he's gonna flay me alive!" He waved his hands helplessly, "Alive!"

"Tell Detective Vickers what I told you." Delaney said, "I'll get a final statement from Michael."

            And with that, Alexander O' Neal, Raccoon City's finest-exited growling and fuming.

"Listen Sherry." Michael dragged her into the confines of his kitchen, " I have an idea as to _who _might be involved-but the why and the how and such elude me." He ran water in the sink and began to wash his hands-the man's face peering up out of his imagination.

He retched.

            "This your first corpse?" Delaney joked cheerfully.  She paused when she saw that Michael was weeping quietly.  

"Redfield? You alright?"

When the Chief of the Fire Department started _crying _you were supposed to do something about it.  Sherry took a tentative step foreward-Michael's head was a black shape in the sink.

"No." he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, "No…Delaney…Sherry-I saw something." He leaned against the sink, "Gods…"

            "Paper Towels." Sherry Delaney saw a stack of "Bounty" against one wall.  Michael's kitchen had all the air of a bachelor's apartment.  No Organization…Daniel was the same way… 

Sherry Delaney handed him a roll and watched him tear off a few sheets and wipe his face.

            "Sherry…I've been keeping a secret for eight years…and I think its time I told someone…"

---------------------------------------

Author's note: Chapter seven! (A Day late, but what are you gonna do?) Are you enjoying it? What's Michael Redfield's connection to Albert Wesker? What is this "other Matter" that Irene wants to discuss? And will William Birkin ever forgive Annette? Will he ever stop being naïve?

Birkin: *smiles cheerfully * doubt it! I trust Umbrella fully and completely! They'll give me credit for all of my work!"

Author: * sweatdrops * 

Birkin: What? They'll give me complete credit and promote me to the board of directors by the time RE2 rolls around…

Author: uh huh…

Neway, Chapter Eight forthcoming! 


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter Eight: Yet another flashback chapter with some stuff at the beginning.  More is revealed-and Wesker and Birkin duke it out! Hooray! More Reviews please! I love them so much its disgraceful J but I love this story more! Hooray story! 

Hamster: * grin * people don't like it when they update fast? I'll tell you a little secret about my writing process-usually once I finish a chapter I get started on the second one ;) That's based on something that Steven King once said in, "On writing." If you let characters and such get stale-even when doing fanfiction-they stop seeming as real.  This is a big project for me-so I keep it fresh.  Thank you so much for your support! :) 

Confusing reality I see myself but it's not really me  
How could it be when I am me  
I guess maybe it's just a dream   
  
C'mon c'mon wake up wake up  
And things aren't what they seem  
C'mon c'mon c'mon wake up wake up  
And people are fake too  
  
I don't lie in dreams although I lye in my sleep  
And I don't sleep to dream yet everything that I see is haunting  
  
Bent truths controlling my world I see the depths of it my toes curl  
I feel so sick I'm sick of this because I know that I'm not asleep

"Dreams" – Taproot 

---------------------------------

1978

Monday 

A few miles outside Raccoon City. 

"Don't worry about it." Jake Kevin said, "Its just a minor forest fire." 

            "Don't be so sure." One of the other firemen said, "This forest is said to be cursed-ancient Indian Burial site-the whole shit." He raised the hose higher-the fire was out for all intensive purposes-this was standard cleanup.

"You wanna do recon? Make sure there's no more blazes?" Jake was the Fire Chief.  Michael had wanted to be like him since the academy.

            "Well Sir-Don't you think we'd be able to see them?"

"Maybe, but I want to warn the Spencer mansion."

Michael frowned, "Spencer mansion?"

"Yes. Spencer Mansion. Big place-about a mile that way-can't miss it."

Michael shrugged out of his fire-fighting gear and began to walk in the direction that the chief was pointing.  Life was full of drudgery if you were a public servant…

After walking for about a half an hour he arrived.

            The building was _big. _Overwhelmingly huge-it was brocaded with glass windows and was fronted by a great green field.

"Whoa."

Hopefully whoever lives here will take pity on a pour fireman and get him a nice cold drink. He smiled, There are days where a cold drink-a cold anything is better then sex and today is one of those…

It was one of those "Days" indeed.

            He peered upward as he heard the dim sounds of a helicopter echoing away in the distance.  Were they having some kind of problem? Just who the hell lived out here anyway?

Griping, Michael wiped a hand thorough his thick black hair and sighed audibly.  He reached the front steps of the house and collapsed on the woodwork staring upward at the ceiling of the porch.

The door opened, and three large burly men hauled him inside.

-----------------------------

1986

So?" Delaney was sitting at the kitchen table, "You met this…Mr. Wesker?"

Michael sighed, "Yeah.  18 fucking years old and he was the boss of a whole bunch of people.  And his little buddy Birkin was worse.  The two of them stood over me-laughing-but I owe my life to Albert Wesker." He sighed, "and there's not a day I don't regret it."

            "So in exchange for your life…"

"I sold them stuff.  I worked my way up through the fire department…and I delivered cadavers to Birkin."

Sherry blinked, "YOU WERE THE ONE WHO-"

Michael sighed, "Yeah, I stole from you and a whole bunch of other people.  After a while I'd "like" he held up his fingers, making those familiar quotation hand gestures, "To say that Dr. Wesker and I became friends-but recently he came to me about a problem…"

            "Does Chief Irons know about this?"

"Chief Irons is taking bribes from every organization." Michael snorted, "From Umbrella to the Girl Scouts.  He's a pervert too-or didn't you know that the "paragon of virtue" from that big east coast college has a rape charge?

            "Coming from a man who stole Cadavers from _me_ that's quite a compliment." Delaney said.  She rose out of her chair, "Did they by any chance say what they were _doing _with those Cadavers?"

Michael frowned and bit his lip.  The morning sun was bright now streaming in through the pink (A/N-yes, the Eighties was a time of horrible kitchen coloring) kitchen. 

Good Morning Raccoon City! This is Barney K. with your eye in the sky traffic and news-it looks like traffic going to Silent Hill is practically at a standstill so we're looking at a nice long time for the weather…and in other news-grisly murders threaten our beloved hamlet! Last night not one-but _four _bodies were found in specific locations around the city! Police are calling the killer "Hannibal Lector" Umbrella Corporation has generously agreed to - 

"That would be Umbrella." Michael turned off the radio, "Eager to cover up anything that might convict them."

            "But Redfield…" Delaney yawned, "Who-What do they have to do with dead guys? Conducting illegal medical research?" she rubbed her hands through her hair, "Gods I need coffee."

"I'll get you some." Michael said.  He stood and padded over to his cupboards-done in a tasteful shade of seventies yellow, "You like Columbia?"

            "Who doesn't?" Delaney yawned again, "Shit.  Jake's going to be mad at me.  He doesn't like me working crime scenes where people are mutilated."

"Didn't you get a case like that in New York?" Michael poured the coffee grounds into a tasteless Japanese Monstrosity coffee maker that was shaped like a cat with one paw raised.  

            "Michael.  What the hell is Umbrella doing out there?"

-----------------------------

Spencer mansion-Morning.

"Morning.  The beginning of a day.  Another terrible day. "

-Rei Ayanami 

Wesker peered upward at the light, "Aww shit.  Its morning."  The sounds of the mansion of the dead coming alive were all around them.  

"It had to be." Annette was buttoning up her blouse, "Birkin and I were outside for most of the evening.  Ergo-we can assume that it's morning."

"Such a smart woman." Wesker kissed her neck, "What say we adjourn to the labs for a little private study session?"

            Annette acquiesced-briefly, "No! Someone will see.  More importantly Birkin will see." She stood up, "I should go back to my room and get dressed."

"Lets get breakfast first." 

            Annette sighed and ran her fingers through her hair trying to make it vaguely presentable.

"Well…I guess I can stand it for a bit." Annette managed to grin, "Lets just try to be colleagues though okay? I really don't want anyone to think of me as a cheater."

Even though that's what you are… 

"What?"

"Um." Annette bit her lip, "Forget I said anything." 

            Wesker studied her for a moment before nodding brusquely.  He took her hand, almost possessively, and led her from the dining hall down to where the cafeteria was located.

Without taste-the builders had decided to put it directly next to the lab area (most likely contributing to why many of the researchers rushed to the restrooms after a hard day of work) the hallway was loaded with various personnel-in various stages of dress and undress-all heading for breakfast or whatever passed for breakfast. 

            Annette felt someone push past her-a very familiar pallid figure in a lab coat.  He strode quickly through the double doors.  She peered closer-watching him stand in line.

Dammit.  Why the hell did he have to show up? Because he works here bitch-you don't think he'd notice? 

            "Birkin! Are you and woods going to get cracking on our little bodies' case?  I'd like you to go downtown to pick up the bodies."  Wesker clapped his friend on the back, but Annette noted his unusually cold expression.

"I'll get right on it." He did not so much as look at Annette as he spoke.

            "William?" She came foreward, "Is everything alright?" the usual ice-wall coming off of Birkin was thicker then normal.

            He glared at her-his ice blue eyes cold-with a hint of malice.  She took an involuntary step backward right into Wesker's arms.

"Birkin.  What the hell's the problem with you?"

"Would you really like to know?" Birkin dropped his tray with a crash.  The breakfast noise quieted a bit.

            "Listen, William, darling."

"Don't talk to me.  I was not _addressing _you Dr. LeDour.  I was speaking to my esteemed colleague.  Dr. _Wesker." _

            "What the hell are you talking about Birkin?" Wesker looked confused, "What did I do to piss you and your high and mighty scientific abilities off this time?"

"This is gonna be ugly." A passing Animal behaviorist said to Annette, "You've never seen them duke it out have you."

            "That is _enough _Dr. Wu." Birkin said, "This is none of your concern." 

"Yeah Henry.  Listen-William, perhaps we'd better take this outside." Wesker was glancing at the rest of the employees-their actions were causing quite a bit of a pariah moment.

            "Fine." Birkin pushed through the double doors.  Annette was shoved rudely aside as the two men exited the cafeteria.

"Those two." Wu peered after them, "Like brothers-but they'd kill each other."

            "What?" Annette cried.  She cursed herself; her voice was unusually high, "What do you mean kill each other?"

"It hasn't happened yet." A passing tech said cheerfully, "But we have a little bit of a pool going.  As Dr. Birkin's girlfriend-you want a shot?"

Annette gasped, then ran after them.

            "Huh." The tech stood next to Dr. Wu, "Its up to a coupla thousand.  I thought for sure she'd want a stake."

"Not everyone likes to gamble." Dr. Wu said, "Lets go get a seat and discuss our plans to deal with the recent delay we've had in our work."

"Yes sir."

---------------------------------

The Outskirts of Raccoon City

Michael blew past the "You are now leaving…please come again!" sign as he sped out into the forest-down a dirt path.

            "Michael! You still haven't told me what the hell they're _doing _out here!" Sherry Delaney was gripping the seat with a vengeance.  Her terrified green eyes stared foreward as Michael Redfield bounced the car through the "bush" that surrounded Raccoon.

"Holy Shit that was a fuckin' tree!" Delaney ducked her head, "Michael! Stop driving like a goddamn teenager!"

            He turned a sharp corner and began to head down another path.  The sturdy little vehicle was bouncing up and down like a little rubber ball.

If Umbrella is responsible. He'd hunt them down.  He'd done what Wesker had asked-because he'd spared his life when he had no doubt that the men in the dark suits were going to kill him.  He was just a fireman for Chrissake!

            "Michael…"

I'm just a fireman.  I just put out fires.  That's my job-nice and simple.  I don't have to loose it because I know that the fires can be destroyed.  They can be killed.  Cops can't do that.  Cops have to deal with _people. _

            "Michael….."

I didn't see a corpse fall open on my doorstep.  I haven't been stealing burn victims for Umbrella for the past eight years.  I don't know what they're doing-I don't know what they're doing-I don't- 

            "REDFIELD! WATCH THE GODDAMN ROAD!"

And the Little Red Jeep with the Words, "Raccoon City Fire Department." Went bouncing over a hill into nothingness.

-----------------------------

Umbrella Morgue.

"Why down here?" Wesker ignored the goose pimples that appeared on his skin.  He was still wearing the same clothes from the previous evening-which would do nothing for anyone who happened to _see _him.  Maybe he could change before going to see Irons to get more of a press block on these "Hannibal Lector killings…" 

The Umbrella Morgue could have stepped out of a thousand cities.  They were surrounded by a hundred steel doors-each carefully numbered and catalogued.  Next to the door was a great bay window-for observation of autopsies and dissections.  Birkin continued to busy himself with one of the drawers-empty-much to Wesker's Chagrin.

"Listen…Birkin…about Annette-"

"Who?"

            Wesker frowned, "Annette LeDour? The New Orleans beauty? The Tomcat?" he folded his arms and blinked at his own stupidity.

Oh Shit…

            "Who? Annette? The woman who I'm dating?" Birkin whirled about.  Wesker peered closer and dropped his arms to his sides.  Birkin had something pale and thin in his hands-glinting like the key to some lost civilization.

A syringe.

"What the hell is that? What does this half to do with Tomcat LeDour?"

"Is that what you call her when you're having sex."

Wesker froze.  The cold atmosphere in the room intensified.

            "Jesus…Birkin…she means nothing to me." He held up a hand, "Put down the syringe-or I'll break your fucking neck." He could do it-it just would pain him to do so.  Annette really did like William Birkin, and his wife did as well.

"I don't think so." Birkin's chest heaved, his eyes glittering, "I think I'll begin the Tyrant project a little earlier then scheduled Dr. Wesker.  Would you like to assist?"

"William-please." Wesker found himself against the door.

"You really don't have any choice." Birkin cradled the syringe like a child.  Wesker was suddenly very aware of how like Marcus his friend seemed at that point in time.

            Marcus never actually injected anybody with anything. Birkin had loyally studied the man-as had Wesker.  He had used gas to infect the first of his "experiments" on humans…

"You're slipping Birkin." Wesker reached under a table praying for a firearm, "If you're trying to play at being Dr. Marcus he used _gas _remember?" the thought of actually being infected with one of the viruses frightened him to no end.  Knowing that your humanity was going to slip away…

            He tries anything I'll get him with it. Wesker tensed, Marsha always said I'd be good working with Internal Affairs- they handled stuff like this all the time…right?

THUMP

Birkin whirled about, "What?"

THUMP! BUMP MBUP BUMP BUMP.

"It's coming from one of the Trays." Wesker pointed.  The tray was clearly visible-the very _frame _was shaking. 

            Birkin jumped back, off the table-to land on his rear and back on the cold floor.  He let out a yelp of surprise as the cold floor hit him-then groaned. 

"You…slept with her…"

            "Shut up." Wesker dug into a cabinet.  Files, files-more files-

"Birkin! There's supposed to be a gun in this room!" he whispered.  He bent lower, to another cabinet-and came face to face with another stack of files.

"Third cabinet." Birkin pointed.  He groaned again as he slowly got to his feet, "Why did you sleep with her?"

            The tray began to Jerk and jump again.  Wesker reached into the third cabinet and found the glock-standard issue for all areas of the lab.

Half loaded.

"Were you people shooting rats again?" Wesker sighed as he saw the half empty clip, "What's the most important thing when working around the undead Birkin?"

            "Always carry a full gun." He muttered absentmindedly.  

"Come here and help me with the drawer." Whatever it was, it was getting more impatient.  The sound of something still alive in the tray was very evident. 

            Birkin hung back, "Why? You slept with my girlfriend.  You-seduced her you-you-succubus!"

Wesker squinted, "what the fuck are you talking about?"

Birkin backed away slowly.

            "Fine." He gripped the handle of the tray tightly.  The steel and sweat making it difficult to hold onto.  He heard Birkin thumping about behind him-and heard the slow steady sound of a gun being made ready to fire.

GRAWRRRRRRRR

The drawer _exploded._

            Wesker felt himself being thrown backward.   The rest of the action was a blur.  He heard Birkin cry out-shots fired-then he took aim at the head-

_The head _

Michael the morgue guy.  Decayed and visibly affected by the cold of the room around him-but there was no mistaking that hair-or that face.

What the hell is going on? 

            Mike let out a snarl and jumped foreward.  Birkin was unconscious on the ground-his head rolled back at an odd angle.

Wesker fired.

Mike collapsed across the examination table-scattering various tools of the trade.  Birkin groaned and sat up, amazed that his formerly spotless lab coat was now drenched in blood.

            "I'm not dead." 

"Thank god." Wesker took a deep breath, "Listen.  I'm sorry huh? Give me a hand with this guy."

            Birkin nodded once and stood slowly.  From the way he walked-Wesker could tell that his leg was still hurting from his ridiculous leap backward-but Birkin uttered not a word of complaint.

Discipline, Obedience, Unity. Wesker bowed his head and moved to the other side of the table, How true still today? He could almost hear Dr. Marcus's voice ringing in his ears…

            "Well." Birkin reached for a box of gloves, "You going to assist?"

"You going to be an ass?"

"No." Birkin shook his head, "Listen-I'm sorry.  About-everything.  You're not the one I should be mad at." His eyes grew dark and Wesker found himself thinking of Tomcat upstairs.

"Don't be mad at her either Birkin." Wesker took the box from his hands, "she's young and she doesn't really know what she's doing.  I heard she was really into Jack-that guy-he came to a meeting once-" Wesker waved a hand about, "You know who he was?"

            "Jack?" Birkin frowned, "No…but then again-no." he shook his head, "Pass me that scalpel would you? I'm going to make the Y-incision."

Wesker frowned, "I came out in the first place because people were disappearing.  Do you think Jack might have been one of those people?"

            "Completing Y-incision." Birkin folded back the flaps of skin, "beginning to classify major organs." The inner workings of one Michael the morgue worker were suddenly spilled all about the table as Birkin calmly shifted through intestine. 

"There were three people who vanished.  The specimen collectors…" Wesker spoke softly.  

            During the instance where Birkin had felt the need to compete with Alexia-Wesker had become close to the specimen collectors.  Brad, Kevin, and Lyn were all trained in trapping, hunting and fishing.  When he had conducted his studies on the T-Virus affecting other creatures they'd been beneficial.

"I sent them out and they didn't come back."

"And that didn't bother you?" Wesker said incredulous, "Three people not coming back?"

            Birkin peered upward at him, blood soaked lab coat, his hands filled with human parts-William Birkin looked like a horror movie reject.

"What did you say?"

Of course, if it's not dead and on a table Birkin doesn't give a shit. Wesker sighed.  He sometimes wished his partner had a little bit of a can-do attitude about what he did for a living.

            "Well it wasn't T." Birkin dropped the intestines, "If Annette was hear she might be able to confirm it-but I'm confident in my theory."

"It can't be progenitor." Wesker picked up the intestines off the floor and winced as they slopped over him.  You really needed to wear proper clothing for this sort of thing, "Because the eyes-"

            William Birkin was frozen over the zombie's face-its moth eaten teeth showing a hideous leer.

"The eyes are dilated." He pulled back, "From over exposure to Ebola-the veins are dilated as well." 

Wesker peered at the eyes.

            One of the trademark side effects of progenitor-was the red eye syndrome.  The veins in the eye would become dilated-causing the victim to appear as if they had hundreds of tiny red worms crawling beneath the cornea.  The virus would usually culminate in blood pouring out of the eye in copious amounts.  Then the traditional mucous filled response as the eye tried to heal itself.

Mike's eyes were open wide-and red.

"We have an outbreak situation." William's voice was monotone, cold and small, "We need to begin evacuation procedures immediately."

-----------------------------------------

Somewhere in Raccoon Forest.

A trail of debris and broken branches marked the descent of the RFD jeep.

            It lay-tossed aside like a child's toy-on its side directly against one of the famous sentinel trees Sherry Delaney was sprawled out the passenger's side door bleeding profusely from a wound in her temple.  Her uniform was torn-her face lying serenely on a patch of dirt.  On the driver's side, Michael Redfield groaned and peered upward at the sky coming from a very skewed perspective.

"Sh-Sherry?"

            Sherry Delaney groaned.

"Sherry? Are you dead?" this was a good thing to ask in these situations.  Considering his last memories were of flying through the air and being attached to a large hunk of metal.  Was I on a roller coaster? He frowned; They forgot to lay the track then. 

He peered upward at a mansion and then he knew.

A few minutes later, Sherry Delaney rejoined the world of the living.  She crawled out from beneath the crushed jeep and rolled down the dirt away from the car.

            "Gods…"

She came to rest against another tree.  She sighed and pushed herself up reluctant to leave the comfortable ground.  Her eyes cast about for Michael-the last thing she remembered was that he was clutching at her neck…

            "Redfield?" 

A dim shape blocked her view-almost rudely.  She peered at it intently and realized that the pale figure standing before it was her companion.

I'm gonna kill him. She would, string him up and leave him in the woods like that movie about the witch, I'm gonna cut his fuckin' head off and shove it up his-

"Is that the mansion?" he would know.  He'd been there.  He'd delivered the corpses of good innocent people there.

Michael Redfield stared back at the Medical Examiner for Raccoon City.  His eyes were wide and terrified.

"No."

---------------------------------------------

A/N-There's Chapter Eight! *This is gonna end up being one of my favorites * In case you're wondering-yes-the mansion that Sherry and Michael have come across _is _the same mansion that Rebecca Chambers and Billy Coen come across in RE Zero! 

Note about viruses: If you're familiar with Ebola (I wasn't until recently) one of the things that it causes is bleeding out the eyeballs. (Twitch) gross-yes-I knows.  Anyway, I figured it was a nice tribute to real life because when your body heals it oozes mucous and stuff, which would explain the zombie, eyes…yeah.

TBC-Chapter 9! I hope you stay tuned! Things get even better! Next big match up, William Birkin Vs. Annette LeDour!  


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter Nine: Its still a love story-I promise-cause real love doesn't come without sacrifices.  Although these sacrifices come on the part of actual people rather then the lovers in some cases- good tales of love start out with strife.  Look at Chris and Jill for example!  Thank you to all my reviewers! You people rule! I love you all! Yay! Yay!

            And especial thanks to Kelly woods-my medical examiner-and one of the many sources who take me back and forth to the happy rubber room with the white walls. =) I know you aren't a huge fan of RE-but this is for you! 

Soundtrack: "Poem" by Taproot.  "Kyoto Now" By Bad Religion 

------------------------------------------

Chained on the burning lake; nor ever thence

Had risen or heaved his head but that the will

And high permission of all-ruling heaven

Left him at large to his own dark designs

That with reiterated crimes he might

Heap on himself damnation while he sought 

Evil to others…

John Milton "_Paradise Lost" _210-216

------------------------------------

The Spencer Mansion.

Annette sat curled in a fetal position on the steps.

            Far below her-Birkin and Wesker would be at each other's throats.  They had to be; somehow William had discovered her transgressions with Albert Wesker.

She sighed and curled up tighter, ignoring the looks from various personnel going about their business.  Odd-since most people were below ground at this particular time in the morning…

She grabbed a passing tech, "What's happened?"

            The tech was a tall freckled face youth with a mop of black hair.  He grinned at her, continuing to grin as she drew him up the stairs to where she sat.

"What happened?" she asked again in an urgent voice, "Tell me! That's a direct Order!"

"There was an accident!" the tech said cheerfully, "Dr. Birkin and Dr. Wesker down in the labs." He frowned, "A zombie _leapt _out of the morgue! It attacked the both of them!"

            "WHY THE HELL ARE YOU SMILING? " Annette wrapped her arms around his neck, "You little fool! They might be hurt! Its not funny when someone gets hurt!" she was making a scene-techs in preparation suits were stopping to stare before continuing nervously.  Lab-coated senior researchers were glancing over their shoulders in fear.

"Ma'am that's not the problem!" the tech snickered, "Birkin comes into the cafeteria-cool as a fuckin' cucumber-_covered _in blood-and says, "We're evacuating."  Then everybody's all staring silently at him like, "What the hell is he doing?" then Wesker comes up and he's like, "NOW YOU IDIOTS!" so that's what everybody's doing. " He shrugged his shoulders, " I have to get to Dr. Westlake's Virology lab ma'am so-"

            She tossed him down across the steps and watched him sprawl across the floor dazed.  The thought of Birkin and Wesker in danger replaced her own thoughts of rushing down there-to the infected area-and getting her things in preparation for leaving.

" I have to go down there!" she bolted down the stairs and jerked back when she felt a strong hand grabbing her by the shoulder.

            "Irene!" Annette grabbed at the pale woman's arm, "Let go of me! I have to get down to the labs!"

"We'll wait up here." The people were moving faster now-like a film picking up speed, "For the men we love." Annette raised an eyebrow as she detected the faint gleam of madness in Irene Wesker's eyes.

------------------------------------

The second mansion

Raccoon Forest.

Human beings are curious creatures.  They're also particularly fond of making stupid-yet easily forgivable mistakes.

Going into abandoned buildings, in the middle of a forest-is a perfect example of one of these often committed-yet easily forgivable mistakes. 

            "I don't like this…"Sherry Delaney was used to forgotten abandoned buildings.  They sprouted like weeds in New York.  However there was something…ominous about this particular building.

She and Michael had gone in because they'd discovered a collection of tents on the porch that concerned her greatly.

            "Look at the floor."

Sherry peered downward at her feet and was startled to come across the familiar Umbrella Seal-Eight parts White and Red-emblazoned on the tile.  The entire world was dirty-including the picture that had first captivated her attention.

            "If Umbrella was here-it looks like they haven't been here for a bit." She coughed, "Dusty as fuckin' hell and I thought corporations went for all that new age shit." She traced a finger along a side table-coming up with a thick layer of dust that made her sneeze again, "Who do you think the ugly guy is?"

            "I dunno." Michael had been across the room examining a collection of brass, "I think he's somebody reasonably important." The picture's eyes were _following _him.  Like a bad episode of Scooby Doo.

            Sherry felt her foot connect with something beneath the table. Oh God I hope it's not a rat… rats were notorious for hiding out in old buildings.  She kicked it with her foot again-testing it.

Book… 

She bent down on her hands and knees and picked it up.  It was a diary-the faded picture of something that might have been a sun or a moon or _something _was faded in on its cover.  

"Michael?"

            Michael dropped the brass candlestick with a mighty crash that sent swirls of dust into the air.  Sherry winced, coughing as he walked over and took the book out of her hands.

            "That's a piece of evidence!" Sherry grabbed it out of his hands, "get your grubby paws off of it!" she gently lifted the cover exposing the first page.

July-

Wow! What a pretty fireworks show! The fact that Bill and Marcy came made it three times as good.  Bill says he might be staying to take a job with Umbrella.  I wish I could, I hate being a kid.

Marcy's so lucky to have a boyfriend like him…

"Christ Almighty." Michael peered over Sherry's shoulder, "It's a Diary." It was old-but not near as old as the mansion-or the dust that settled into the floors.

            "From our lost hikers." Sherry jerked a thumb toward the tent, "Who decided to abandon their gear in the middle of the forest for no good reason." She sighed and looked concerned; "We need to get a crew out here.  RPD and RFD.  Burn the Fucking place down if we have to-"

            "People are always getting lost in the forest." Michael said as he sat down Indian Style, "Sometimes there aren't suspicious circumstances." He flipped to another page of the diary.

August-

A camping trip!  I knew that Bill was the consummate outdoorsman but Marcy's gotten pretty good at being among the trees and floors too.  Apparently it's important to Bill's job as a scientist to get out in the middle of things.  Marcy and he joined Umbrella a few weeks ago…

"Aha!" Michael said.  His voice rang off the high rafters, "The game is afoot Watson." 

            Sherry's eyes narrowed, "All it says is a Camping trip.  That could be _any _camping trip." Yet she felt her eyes wandering out to the tents on the porch-and the little pink tent next to the two big ones.

She shivered.  Outside the warm air was growing colder.

"Sherry." Michael said, "Look at this."

            Sherry slid across the floor, the both of them sitting directly on the Umbrella Seal.  She ignored Michael's shocked look and peered at the pages of the book.

Don't know-

      Bill's dead.  He tried to shoot them.  The men came out of the house and howled at him.  He screamed and screamed and screamed.  Marcy was screaming too-something about a virus.  She was crying and yelling at Bill about how he had to know, "They were near the old executive training center" but Bill got eaten.  I was in my tent.  I was asleep.  Now I'm listening to Marcy, my sister sobbing.  She got bit.  She told me to stay in my tent no matter what.  I peeked out the window, she was hugging herself and saying, "all the children die, all the children die, all the children die." Over and over again.

I'm scared.

Morning-

I looked out and Marcy was gone.  I think I dreamed screaming last night. I'm so hungry-but my big sister told me to stay in tent.  I'm only nine years old. 

Afternoon-

I saw Marcy staggering around the fields in front of the house.  Her head was funny.  She didn't see me, she was moving funny slow like she had a broken leg.  I hope she chased the bad things away.  She was grabbing her head too.

Evening-

Marcy is curled up in the grass.  Why did she tell me to stay in the tent? I want to help.  She thinks I'm such a baby!

Late-

Marcy's gone from the field.  I'm afraid, I hear moaning noises inside the house.

Late-

I'm leaving the tent.  I don't think Marcy's come back.  She probably went into town to get help.  I'd be safer in the house, which is why I'm leaving my tent.  There are white shapes on the lawn-like ghosts they're moving.

"Holy Christ." Sherry pushed the book away from Michael and watched it skitter across the floor, "Holy Fucking Christ and all his saints…"

            "I think we need to leave." There were no moaning noises, no other sounds besides the wind in the trees-the scratching of their branches-the soft shuffling sounds-

"What is that?" Michael stood slowly.  The sounds were coming out of the darkness of the entrance hall, "People? Here?"

No.  Not people. Instincts that Sherry never knew she had were going off five-alarm, Not people, run-get out-get out-GET OUT. 

The Shuffling sound increased.

            "Redfield get _back_!" she hissed.  He was walking towards the sounds, pausing every few minutes to call out, "Hello? Hello?"  
"REDFIELD!"

Mauhhhhhhaaaauhhhhhhh

A dim white ghost-like shape outlined itself against the inky blackness of the mansion's interior.  Sherry screamed and grabbed Michael Redfield-Chief of the Raccoon City Fire Department-by the arm.

"Run you bastard!" the white shape became more distinct, "RUN LIKE HELL!"

----------------------------------

Spencer Mansion

Evacuation.

This word conjures images of organization to prevent catastrophe.  Organization to prevent safety.  The complete opposite of anarchy-the knowledge that _you _will be saved and taken care of because the corporation _cares._

In the case of Umbrella, this is completely inaccurate.

            People in white coats were rushing back and forth hauling boxes full to bursting of files from room to room to room.  Men in dark suits like shadows were dancing back and forth amidst the moths.  The black moth survives while the white moth dies when the madness of mankind turns the sky to ash in the industrial revolution.

It has not changed.

Annette LeDour stood watching the scene in silence, conscious of Irene's gentle but impossibly firm hand.  The Crescendo of human voices was rising all around them.

"Do we have enough Vaccine?"

"Has anyone seen the notes we took on the specimens August 1980?"

"Oh god! We're all going to die!"

"There's no Vaccine you fool!

"I have to get down to the labs! My work's down there!"

"Keep back! Stay in an orderly fashion-"

"Don't carry anything Sally-"

"That you don't absolutely need Men.  Now go!"

            "They're like sheep." Annette said in wonder, "Sheep with brains.  Sheep with computers-sheep with vaccines and viruses and monsters and horrific and wonderful dreams." The air was stuffy.  The sun was still shining brightly outside. 

"You're learning."

"Who are you?" Annette tried to twist back, failing due to the strong hand that continued to grip her shoulder, "Irene's not like this! I need to get down to the lab-to-to-"

To Your husband, to my boyfriend.  To the two men in my life that matter most to me.  Please Irene… 

            Irene's hand tightened-clenching the muscles in Annette's shoulder-then loosened-suddenly.

"Go."

Her voice was soft.

"Go and bring my husband back to me."

He's not mine. Annette whirled about and faced Irene directly.  The woman's soft brown hair hung unbound about her face.  She wore a dark purple dress with a pattern of black and white checks around the collar-and the arms.

He never was… 

"Please."

Annette nodded-Annette understood-and Annette ran.

--------------------------

The Basement.

William Birkin had shoved Mike the Morgue guy into the tray.

He and Wesker stared for a few moments-the silences palpable. 

            After discovering the outbreak the two had acted quickly.  It had to be contained and everything had to be prepared to be moved to a secure location for transport.  From there-the employees would be required to go to their rooms.

They-on the other hand-had to stay.

Birkin and Wesker had walked down to the incinerator.  Standard procedure dictated that any article that had come in contact with infected organisms had to be burned and sterilized.

The two sat-in matching haz-mat suits, and stared at each other.

            "I want my lab coat back." 

Wesker sighed, "Twenty Four hours of isolation."

            Birkin sniffed, "I still want it."

Wesker frowned, "Why? You can get another one."

            William Birkin sighed and folded his hands across his knees, "It's a _status _symbol. It sets a researcher and scientist above everyone else." He stuck his nose up in the air and sighed, loudly. Green was not either of their colors-Wesker made a note to burn all of his green clothing the minute he returned to his apartment.

Irene. 

"I miss Irene." 

            Birkin frowned, "Irene? Why? You having second thoughts about being a lying cheating ass-wiping-"

"I miss my wife you little shit." Wesker growled.  He grimaced, "Look-you may think I'm just a cold hearted womanizing bastard but I really do love Irene alright?"  His eyes were pleading with his friend to understand, "Okay Birkin? I'm sorry about Annette.  It was I in both cases okay?" his voice became high pitched, "I'm sorry-I'm sorry.  I'm sorry that I slept with your girlfriend.  I'm sorry that your mother killed herself, I'm sorry that your fucking father was an asshole just like me!" 

The silence in the morgue deepened.  Birkin turned away from his friend and hugged the wall desperately.  The two came from very distinct-yet similar backgrounds.

Christ. Birkin shook his head, Who would have thought it would end like this? 

"William!"

William Birkin sat up, "Annette"

"William!" 

The sound was echoing outside the morgue chamber.  Wesker stared at the window before going back to his silent musing.

            Annette appeared in the window looking disheveled.  Birkin stood quickly and crossed over the room to her-placing the outrageously cartoon-sized hand of the haz-mat suit on the glass.

"Annette!" his voice was loud in the tiny room, "You've got to get out of here!  We're infected! Or-Well-we is quarantined!"

"Shut up you idiot." Wesker said from the floor, "She probably knows that by now."

            "I'm so sorry!" Annette pressed her face against the glass-her green eyes wide, "I made a horrible mistake! Can you forgive me?" 

"Now's um…not the time to discuss that." Birkin said.  He dropped his hand, "Why did you do it?"

            Outside Annette had to think.  She leaned against the glass on her side-and slid to the floor.  The stone was cold against her skin as she leaned her head back and stared at the ceiling so far above her.

"William…" she stood up slowly, her face inches from the glass, "I didn't know what I was doing.  I still don't know what I'm doing.  Irene told me to come down here-to bring you back up-"

            "We can't go back up." Wesker appeared at Birkin's side looking like an enormous green muppet with a human head, "Not yet.  Not for 24 hours." 

"Its chaos out there! People are running around like chickens with their heads cut off!" Annette wince at the childish phraseology, "Is there an escape plan? Anything that we can use to get out of here?"

Wesker began to laugh.  Birkin glared at his friend, but the great green muppet collapsed onto the floor laughing hysterically a muffled laugh track beneath the earth.

            "William?" Annette put both of her hands on the glass and stared at him.  His blue eyes closed and his blond head leaning against the space between her hands, "There's an escape plan right?  You know it-you are the senior researcher.  What's the plan? Tell me-I can go upstairs and tell everyone else…"

            Birkin closed his eyes and shook his head dumbly.  Annette tried to figure out why they had locked themselves in the very same room where they put the bodies-where the supposed problem was…

"The doors will seal.  Down here at least." Birkin looked up at her with wide blue eyes A child's eyes… "Up there it'll be every man for himself.  If we're infected then we die down here."

No. Annette LeDour thought, No.  You aren't going to die down here.  Not when I realized that I made a mistake.  Not now.  Not now. 

            "You're lying.  Trying to play the sacrificial lamb." Tension made her voice louder, "You're trying to be the fuckin' martyr huh? You and _Wesker _wanna go down in history as the heroes?" 

Silence on the other side; Annette watched as Birkin put one of his own gigantic muppet hands on the glass mirroring hers.  The expression in his eyes was one of such sadness that she felt her own heart would burst.

NO! 

"NO! Goddamnit!" she slammed her fist against the glass-forcing Birkin to fall back, "NO! Not after I admitted I made a mistake-not after I admitted to myself that-that I cared enough about you…not after making all those mistakes-not after Jack-I'm NOT going to loose you-"

            "Annette" Birkin's voice was muffled, "Are you alright?"

Annette collapsed into a fetal position beneath the glass-her muscles forcing her to curl tighter and tighter-as if she could wish the world away by vanishing…

No.

            "Fuck 24 Hours." She shot to her feet; "I'm getting you out of there _now. _"

-----------------------------------

Maude's Coffee.

The outskirts of Raccoon City

Maude ran a simple place-a place for the Umbrella Folks who worked out in the woods.  They came and got down home cooking and discussed their fancy plans for viruses and other things that made her head spin.

She was a simple woman who ran a simple place.

            That woman…the one who had come in almost three weeks ago.  She'd been upset-then she'd come in with another man who was all pale.  Far different then the fine outdoors boy she'd been with before.

I wonder. Maude thought, as she wiped the counter, Whatever happened to her. 

            None of them Umbrella folks had been seen lately.  Like those hikers.  Maude's gray eyes drifted over to the billboard where the picture of the three hikers still rested in its faded newspaper clipping.  Then the four bodies in the news-the "Hannibal Lector" Killings." 

Maude didn't know what to think.

            "Lucky Umbrella's got nothing to do with it though." She sure wished however that they'd come back.  Business was getting ugly.

Speaking of Ugly…

"Well!" she perked up when she saw the gentlemen in the sheriffs uniforms stumble towards her humble establishment, "Looks like a couple of RPD's finest!"

            The cops staggered closer and Maude frowned.  One had half his scalp missing-the half peeled back from his head exposed his shining skull.  One was missing a hand-the loose flapping fabric of his RPD uniform stained with blood.

Maude's eyes drifted over to her current events board.  

            Next to the picture of the three hikers-the man woman and child-she'd pasted a picture of two police officers.  Children had hung hearts around the two men-their academy photos showing bright and shiny faces.  They'd vanished in the Raccoon woods looking into a missing dog.

A _missing _Dog…

The two cops staggered closer. 

            Maude dove back behind the counter.   Her feet pumped as she pushed away the door, the first, the second running out towards her cabin deep in the woods.  The woods offered safety and shelter-and her husband who was waiting.  David of twenty-three years.  Mrs. David Jackson.  David Jackson who loved her-who took care of her.

Who staggered out from his cabin door and caught her with his dead zombie arms-and pulled her into his eternal embrace of death.

--------------------------------

Chapter nine: wow! Intrigue! Drama! A random and senseless death! Where _are _all these zombies coming from? What happened to Sherry and Michael? How will they escape Marcus's mansion if they can't-drive-away?  Its getting dark soon-and love and all things will come together!

Birkin-in a few more chapters.

Author- * growls * shut up you.  I can leave you locked in that morgue forever!

Birkin- * whimpers * I'll be good. 

Wesker- And I'll break out!

Author- Chapter Ten coming soon! 


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter Ten: Another reason behind me wanting to finish this so quickly is cause I start my first offical job on Tuesday.  I'll still keep writing (I'm thinking a sequel to this) but I've got a heck of a lot of chapters go to…

Birkin: She's got three chapters left.

Author: Shut up!

Birkin: What? Its true! 

Author: Meh.  You want to do the disclaimer?

Birkin: The Author owns nothing of what you see here, not me, Not Annette-not Wesker-not Resident Evil.  She claims a few characters-namely Irene Wesker, Sherry Delaney, Michael Redfield, and many other NPCS who there are no names for.  

------------------------------------------------------

Never pretend to a love, which you do not actually feel, for love is not ours to command. 

**Alan Watts**

---------------------------------------------------------

Spencer Mansion

"Fuck 24 Hours." She shot to her feet; "I'm getting you out of there _now._

"I just-" Annette stared at the window and looked back down the hallway, "Need to think of a way how." She growled at herself and shot back down the way she'd come-the empty labs echo with the sound of her running feet.

----------------------------

Spencer Mansion Morgue

"She…left."

            "Probably came to her senses." Wesker said from the floor, "She's an Umbrella employee with the same training that we have.  She wouldn't make a stupid mistake like trying to free two infected men." 

William Birkin slid down from the wall and stared out of the window like a dog that had just seen its perspective owner walk down the street.

"William why are you so concerned about her?" Wesker coughed, "Its not like she-well she-"

She's the woman I'm dating. 

Did that mean anything?

"Do you think we're infected?" Birkin said.  His voice thick with emotion, "Honestly?"

"Honestly I'm not sure."

Everything serious, inhuman, and cold rushed out of Birkin in an instant.

"I don't want to die like this." He whimpered, "Wesker…I don't want to die like this.  Here-alone underground." 

            "Don't worry…." Wesker's voice picked itself up in pitch, "Everything will be okay."

I hope. 

"I hope…everyone knows what to do upstairs." 

"You shouldn't have walked into the cafeteria like that." Wesker snorted, "Although I would have given a hundred bucks to see the look on their faces!"

            "They're so ignorant." Birkin shook his head and wondered where "they" all were now, "Woods-she asked me if we were going to keep her and the rest of them _safe."_

"That's our job you know." Wesker sighed, "keeping people safe."

Birkin said nothing as he turned his head against the wall to listen for the sound of Annette's returning.

---------------------

Raccoon City Woods

A few miles outside of town.

If you chanced to be an animal on the eve that all these things were occurring-and if you chanced to be in a particular part of the forest-at a specific time-you would be treated to a very strange sight.

            Michael Redfield, Chief of the Raccoon City Fire Department-and Mrs. Sherry Delaney Raccoon Medical Examiner-fleeing through the forest as if the hounds of hell itself were on their heels.

"Come on!" Michael Redfield leapt a log that had dropped itself in their path, "Run!"

            "What were those things?" Sherry panted, "Why-Why were they in the house? That house is abandoned-I don't think anyone-anyone in town knows its there-"

Michael did not turn back.  Ahead the landscape sloped upward.  Train tracks crossed their path like scars on the landscape.

            "We have to run! Keep moving!" he knew, he'd always known.  Wesker had told him-and in a way the reason why they'd kept the mansion out in the backwoods had told him too.

Claire, Chris…how could your parents have brought you into such a horrible world? How could I have been a part of it? 

He was a fireman, he put out fires.  He was a good guy.

            "Michael!" Sherry Delaney was panting heavily now, "What-What the hell-Where-Where are we going?"

"Over." On the other side of the tracks they would come to a wide green field.  The other mansion couldn't be too far away-

And all around them night was descending fast.

            Sherry wiped a hand through her hair, Redfield.  What the hell were you and Umbrella doing here? What happened to those hikers? To that kid…. even running she could see that poor defenseless little girl-sitting in her tent-watching her sister…

Michael stumbled up the hill to the train tracks and emerged into a wide-open area filled with grass.   In the distance the last rays of the setting sun dotted the tree-filled all American landscape with a rainbow of light.

There were three things wrong with this image.

            Michael was looking at a police car, a _Raccoon _City Police Car.  There was also a Highway patrol car-crudely stashed beneath the lengthening shadows of the trees.  Amongst the cars were…personal affects.  They were arranged as if for a graveyard, the cars were parked in a circle around various items that were worn away by the rain and elements.

Holy Shit. 

            "Michael! You need to tell me what's going on right now! Otherwise-I'm just going to fuck it and arrest-" Sherry came over the hill and stopped, "You."

"My god."

            "All those disappearances."  Sherry scrambled down the hill to the graveyard, "All those people who vanished in the woods.  All those disappearances that Chief Irons covered up."

Michael turned to her, "Covered up?"

            "He-" Sherry gripped her wrists, making a wall to protect herself from the horrors that were in this singular place, "He said-He said that there were coyotes.  Wild animals.  He called the EPA he said-he said-"

Michael saw the dim outlines of the red EPA truck parked in the shadow of one of the trees.

"You think they got his phonecall?"

            "This can't happen!" 

Sherry dropped to her knees.

            "Oh god…this can't happen.  Chief Irons loves this city, he told me so.  He said, "Its like a lady we all have to protect.  He-he was a good man.  He brought in a criminal-he gave everyone a fair trial-he didn't bribe any judges…and I believed him! I believed him when THIS was going on!" she gestured helplessly at the parked cars, "All these people…whatever was in that place…that horrible, horrible place…"

            "Sherry…" Michael stepped over cautiously, "Its not…your fault.  Its not Daniel's fault either."

"Daniel…works for them." Sherry's eyes were dead, "I just realized that.  He does data processing and Internal Technical SHIT!" she balled her hands into fists, "He lies to me-why didn't he tell me about this?"

            "I don't think he knew.  I didn't know."

"Why…did they ask you to steal corpses?" Sherry stared at him with curious eyes, her green orbs darkening like a cat's in the night, "What kind of corpses _did _you take?"

            Michael rubbed his nose and wrapped his arms around his body, trying to think of what kind of bodies he'd taken.

"Burn victims…" the bodies from that textile fire, the bodies from that house fire.  He'd piled them all in the back of his van with the ceremony of a gravedigger, "Bodies where they'd been mutilated-closed coffin shit." He shook himself, "I can't imagine why."

            "I can." Sherry was peering ahead into the darkness, "Lets find shelter." She peered back at the cars, "Daniel said that they were doing something with viral work?"

That would explain the fact that half the fuckin' hospital staff is made up of Umbrella employees. 

            "But-" Mike's voice was slow, "What would viruses have to do with me stealing corpses?"

"Maybe…" Sherry reached the EPA van and pulled open the red door.  Various cages littered the back of the van along with animal capture equipment.  She eyed a shock-stick critically.

Not enough apparently. She sat back and studied Michael.  Both were sweaty-and Michael had a great gash on his head that was still oozing blood.

            "I asked Wesker once." Michael pulled the door shut behind him, "He said they were doing "Beneficial work" what do you think that meant?"

"Maybe they're experimenting on those bodies." Sherry leaned against one of the cages gripping the shock stick, "I can't think why though.  And then there's all these people…"

            "Listen." Michael leaned forward, his eyes wary, "If we can get to the other mansion, they would be able to tell us everything.  Maybe even provide us with protection."

"Or maybe we'd just end up being the next batch of corpses on the operating table." Sherry growled, "I'm staying right-

The woods around them echoed with a roar.

            "WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT!" Sherry bolted to her feet.  The dust and grime covering the windshield of the EPA van obscured the world from view-but a large dark shape moved about before them.

"Bigfoot?"

            "Fuck that Michael!" Sherry dove towards the front, "Help me get this thing going!" the front was a pale yellow-a half eaten burrito that had seen better days was sitting in the well of the car. Oh yuck… 

"Sherry…" Michael was scrambling in the back, "WE DON'T HAVE THE GODDAMN KEYS!"

            Sherry Delaney screamed as two bright red eyes outlined themselves through the gloom. It was crouched on the hood staring _in _at the both of them.

"SHERRY-OH MY-"

"Keep absolutely fucking still." Sherry whispered.  She was frozen against the faded seat, "Absolutely. Fucking. Still."

            The thing moved foreward sniffing.  Michael crouched behind the seat, feeling around the floor.  I'm going to wet myself. If that thing looked at him the way it was looking at Sherry… I'm going to die knowing that in the last moment I was such a baby that I actually- 

His fingers closed on a round dog's head.  Dimly beneath his thumb he could feel the raised eyes-and attacked to that plastic head…

KEYS! 

He smiled.

"Sherry."

Sherry Delaney did not move.  Her breathing was loud and raspy.

"Sherry.  I found the keys."

"Give them to me quickly."

            He was about to object when the insanity of the situation hit him.  I want to drive when there's a great big beastie sitting atop the car? 

He dropped the keys into her lap.

            Slowly, Sherry raised a pale white hand to the ignition.  The thing was still sitting atop the car-although now Michael thought he saw an expression of boredom in the creature's demonic red eyes.  Does he really not see us? 

The car started with a roar and Sherry was thrown back. 

Through the windshield, Michael saw a brief glimpse of long fangs and frightened red eyes as the creature went exploding through the grime-back through the seat-and _into _the part of the car where he was.

The thing roared.

            The van bounced over a hill of grass and the door flung itself open.  Dim white shapes could be seen at the edges of the field moaning and heading closer-

The thing was tangled up in itself.  It seemed to be large dog-overly large-with pieces of rotting flesh falling off of its thick black pelt.  Its teeth were entangled with its leg that had fallen beneath it…

_It was trying to chew it off._

This thing was not going to stop.

            Michael grabbed one of the cages and brought it down upon the creature's head.

The dog screamed-_screamed_ and lifted its great head to snarl at him.  

"Bye poochie.  Give my re-" he grabbed the dog by its hind leg, "guards to SATAN!" 

He threw the creature from the van.

            The dog was heavier then he'd expected.  The beast managed to rake him with its claws before dropping only a few feet from the van, which promptly drove away.  Michael winced and examined his arm.  

Thick red gashes exposed muscle and bone.  The blood was _everywhere._  He swayed as he tried to climb into the passenger's seat.

            Sherry was focused intently on driving the van going far faster then Michael had with their jeep.  Why the fuck did I drive out here so fast? I should have just called ahead-I have Wesker's number… what was it? There was a five…and another five…

"Do you have any idea where this mansion is?"

            "What?" Sherry was staring at him from the passenger's seat.  The red van entered the trees and she and he were shrouded in darkness.

Why can't I remember that damn number? 

"Michael? Are you alright?"

"Keep-driving. I'm fine." He smiled at Sherry. 

I'm not fine.  I feel like I'm going to hurl.  And that damn dog- 

"Oh shit! You're hurt!" 

The van swerved to a stop before a patch of trees and the sound of a small running stream.

            "Keep driving Delaney!" Michael winced, "Come on, its not that bad-those things are still there-out there-after us-"

"I'm going to fix you up."

"Fuck you Delaney!"

"Fuck you too." She climbed over the driver's seat and headed toward the back, "I'm going to fix you up."

They ended up reaching a compromise.  Sherry drove-slower now-and Michael worked on his arm.  The cut ran deep-and he was getting dizzy and he continued to feel sick. 

Can't let Sherry know… 

The little red van bundled down the roads less traveled as it moved into the night.

-------------------------

Spencer Mansion

A mile or so away

Annette LeDour had to leave.

            She had to go get a doctor or some kind of help-but right now she was preoccupied with Kelly woods the medical examiner-and her assistant Matthew.

"They really say that they're infected?" Kelly looked nervous.  She'd done her red hair up in a bun behind her head, "But the Alarms would have gone off."

"That's what worries me.  Is there any chance that the power could have been cut? "

Kelly had moved the scientists-upper and lower-into the large dining room.  A few who had been listening scuttled back to inform their associates.

Annette sighed, "Gather all the senior researchers-we need to come up with a contingency plan."

"Right."

And more importantly-a cure. 

"Did they say what kind of virus it was?" Matthew asked, "That might help us in curing them." 

"Progenitor." Even the name made Annette shiver, " they said it was progenitor."

"That doesn't make any sense." Kelly's voice was confused.  Her eyes darted to Matthew and back to Annette, "P's unstable.  There's no way it could have evolved like that.  It was never-"

Completed? 

The word hung around them like a smoky cloud.

            "That was Dr. Birkin's diagnosis." But he could have been trying to scare her-to get back at her for sleeping with Wesker…

I wish I knew what the hell was going on! 

"We can keep the personnel up here for 24 hours." Kelly said, "But we have to worry about what kind of response we're going to get from Umbrella Paris."

Annette frowned.

            Umbrella had lots of contact with its employees-but it was divided into two separate companies.  Umbrella Red (The United States Branch) handled Research and Development-which many of the senior researchers was a kind of slander on the "Red blooded American" joke.

Umbrella White handled…the rest.

"They can't come here! They've got no cause!" Annette said Shrilly, "There's no precedent-"

"Two of their Senior Researchers are incapacitated.  The company cares."

They care about their research. Every employee dreaded the day that Umbrella White would march by for an inspection.  

And this isn't just an inspection… 

"They'll be here in a couple of days." Kelly shrugged, "So we have time to prepare for them."

            "You." Annette turned to her, "You called them-you're a-a-whatever they call it-"

"Double agent? Mole? Reporter?" She smiled, "Please Dr. LeDour.  I'm here to serve.  Medical Examiner is my cover yes…but I do work for Umbrella White."

"Jesus."

"No, Board of Directors representative." 

Annette sighed and leaned against the wall.  This was the last thing she needed.

---------------------------

Somewhere Deep in the bowels of the Spencer Mansion.

The person responsible for all of this smiled widely, singing to the spirits of the damned that lingered in the hell-bound labs where the good doctors performed their research.  It was more then a job-it was joy.

Revenge.

            A hand picked up a silver ring of keys-large-but with only two.  Soon it would come time to lock this mansion up just as they had the first time when the good doctor Marcus had proved disloyal to the corporation.

But the Corporation will fall as well, and then, and then, the world will be my personal hell … 

They couldn't cover things up forever.

She'd make sure of it.

---------------------------------

Author's note: Evil weekend.  Anyway, there's chapter ten.  More intrigue (Spies! Ooh! And you thought this couldn't get anymore exciting) Chapter Eleven is forthcoming! Thank you to all the reviewers! *Huggles * I live on your compliments and such.  Flames are also welcome-as well as advice.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter Eleven: It keeps rolling and rolling! Thank you to all my reviewers.  I'm finishing this ahead of time and I'll just keep posting the last few chapters as it gets more reviews.  So if you want a cookie… * lol *

Note: Yes, I have decided to do a sequel-and devote another chapter to William Birkin and Annette LeDour's wedding.  This'll be more Humor/Romance.  You can look foreward to it shortly.  Any help would be appreciated. * Huge grin *

But they still have to get outta the mansion…this isn't over yet!

---------------------------------------------------
    
    FELLOW TRAVELER'S VOICE (o.s.)
    
    It's obscene, all the violence, all the
    
    Lunacy.  Shootings even at airports now.
    
    You might say...we're the next endangered
    
    Species...human beings!
    
    CLOSE ON DR. PETERS, smiling affably, turning to his neighbor.
    
    DR. PETERS
    
    I think you're right. Sir.  I think
    
    You've hit the nail on the head.
    
    -From "12 Monkeys"
    
    -----------------------------------

Somewhere over the Pacific Ocean

"Would you like another martini sir?"

            The man stared at the stewardess with the bored disdainful eye of a connoisseur who sees something that he likes-and must have it.

"Yes thank you." He picked up the paper to signify that he was reading again.  He knew that Wesker and Birkin would have been able to keep Irons from letting people know about the murders…

But the sudden "lack "of communication from Umbrella Faculty 299746.6.6. Was troublesome.  Too much was at stake.  And so he had been sent by the board of directors to make sure that everything was in proper order.

There could be no mistakes.

------------------------------

Spencer Mansion Morgue

William Birkin and Albert Wesker had managed (Surprisingly) to fall asleep.  At least Wesker had.  William was still listening against the wall-his ears perked up for a forlorn hope that Annette would come back.

Why would she? He sighed and turned away from the wall, his head leaning against the smooth metal, She thinks you're a scientist whose only devotion is to his work.  A man who only thinks about things that lives in test tubes.

Was that all he was?

            Am I just a tool? A person who lives and dies at the company's command? Marcus had been that way.  He didn't want to go out like that man had…lying in a pool of blood in his own laboratory…

But where had the bodies come from? They didn't use progenitor in this lab-they used T-Virus for the obvious reasons.  

The only way that the virus could have gotten out of the executive training center would be if it were let out… 

They had locked down everything.  Somewhere deep in the Paris Faculty, they had the keys.  He had to deny it.  There was no way that any of it could be true…

The morgue attendant-the assistant-those people who disappeared… 

He wondered whom Wesker had gone to see in town that day he said he was going to try to get some extra help.

"Wesker." Birkin whispered.

Wesker remained motionless.

"Wesker!" 

Albert Wesker turned his head away from the sound.

"ALBERT!"

"What? What?" Albert Wesker shook himself, "I'm up, and I'm awake.  What do you need?" he peered about dazed for a moment and scratched the back of his neck, "What the hell do you want Birkin?"

"I was just wondering who you went to see in town."

            Wesker looked confused, and then shrugged, "A friend.  You don't know him." He put his hands behind his head, "What difference does it make who I go see?"

Birkin said nothing.  He scratched at an itch on his leg-inaccessible because of the haz-mat suits.  They were hideous things-bright green with a great big faceplate. 

"Albert?"

Wesker looked annoyed, "Will you stop calling me that?"

"How…how did you know that Irene was the one?"

            Wesker smiled unconsciously.  He had been wondering when Birkin would chew through the knot in his tongue about women and ask him. Tomcat was more then enough woman for the boy…

"Well…" 

            He had met Irene Verräter in a hotel trying to unlock her room.  The pounding had awoken him-and he'd risen and been a good citizen, helping her out.  He'd asked her to dinner-and she'd agreed but only if he'd pick her up from work.

He'd gone to the address to find the "City of New York" Medical Examiner's office-and Irene as one of their head employees.

I really don't want to tell a guy who spends most of his waking hours around the walking dead about how we met over an autopsy table. 

            The thing had been-for the first time the doctors had been in control.  No armed guards were posted outside.  There were no restrains-no straps.  The dead remained dead.

And for him that had been a blessed relief.

He leaned his head back against one of the drawers, "After that, we went to dinner often-and after a few months I…took matters into my hands."

"You purposed."

            "I was trying to be a gentlemen." Wesker's voice was hollowed by the suit, "And you were there-you knew my reasons…"

Birkin wondered if he should tell Wesker about what Irene had said the day she'd arrived.

"When I first saw Annette…I thought she was just a stupid woman.  But then-she stood up to Dr. Westlake-and to so many others." Birkin laughed, "When Westlake gave her to me, I was thrilled.  That and this Jack person…"

"We have yet to discuss that." Wesker shifted his weight, "When did you send out the specimen collectors?"

            Birkin frowned.  His blond hair was matted to his head and he desperately had to use the restroom.  The problem with haz-mat suits…was that they were designed to protect…and not for comfort.

Maybe that's something I should do. Birkin thought, Design a comfortable haz-mat suit. 

"I sent them out to go collect bird specimens.  We were moving into phase three on our testing and I wanted avian subjects." 

            "What happened then?"

"They didn't return.  I had work to do-we had an issue with a BOW-"

Wesker did not need to hear about that.  This was why they no longer allowed scientists down into the labs at night by themselves.

"Anyway-they didn't come back so I sent out Jack and another team of specimen collectors.  The woods are full of dangerous coyotes." He paused, "There's a thought.  If I could get a team to capture a couple of coyotes then I could-"

"Birkin it didn't occur to you that something might be _wrong_?"

Birkin frowned, "I have important work to do.  You're never around-so leading the faculty is left up to me, Dr. Wesker." Birkin tried to look important and failed; "My research takes precedent over missing employees."

"Dammit Birkin-that's just the way Marcus thought.  And you know what? Some day you're going to end up just like him." Wesker said coldly, "And when that day comes-"

"Shut up! You don't know what you're talking about!" the conversation was rising in tones now-the two men yelling at each other made it seem like they were yelling through water.

            "I'm not like Dr. Marcus! My work matters because I make it matter! I can do better then he did-I can create more then he did.  He was the old and I am the new-and nobody, not you-not that annoying little bitch Alexia, and Not Umbrella can EVER take that away from me!" he slammed a green fist into the wall, "Nobody…"

"I'm amazed you ever found it in yourself to _like _Annette LeDour.  You let things consume you.  That won't work well when you decide to marry her-or is that not your intention?"

Birkin punched him.

Wesker spiraled back and raised a tentative hand to his faceplate.  Birkin was never a fighter-he was the brains behind his own brawn…but he'd really hit him hard.

            Birkin was standing over him looking crazed and triumphant.  His blue eyes were wild behind his mask.

"I'm getting out of here."

"Birkin! You cannot unlock that door unless-" Wesker fell back as Birkin fumbled for a thin-white security card.  He laid his head against the floor and wished that Irene could be there holding him.

No matter what Birkin might think…I do love her. He did love her; she was just cold and distant sometimes.  He wanted warmth from the woman he'd married-he had enough of coldness and insanity at work.

He watched William Birkin smile as the door to the morgue slid open. I really must get locking mechanisms that respond to biological contamination installed. 

William turned back to him.

"Aren't you coming?"

Am I going to follow my 26-year-old friend to his death?   Lets think carefully about this hmm? 

Wesker sighed and stood up pushing himself off the floor with his large muppet-like hands.

"Yeah, yeah.  Give me a minute."

"We can head upstairs and take charge of this.  By now they must have sent a Umbrella White Employee-so we have to get everything-"

            "We have to figure out what the hell is going on." Wesker stood and pushed past Birkin, out the door.  And pray that it doesn't have anything to do with that other mansion deep in the woods… 

-------------------------------------

Somewhere in the Raccoon City Woods

Sherry Delaney peered out through the grime of the EPA van and scratched the back of her neck again.

            "Michael…stay awake…come on Michael…"

Michael Redfield moaned.  His shirt was once again soaked with blood-the crude bandage he'd applied while the van was in motion ruined.  

She was worried.

            The chief of the fire department was drifting in and out of consciousness.  Whenever he'd awake he'd babble insanity about monsters and such.  She had to get him to a hospital quickly…but they were too far out to get back to raccoon.

She'd have to put her trust in the Umbrella Corporation.

            When she'd first come to the city-Daniel had wooed her with the promise of great things in store at Umbrella.  They were on the cutting edge-even more cutting edge then cell-phones and "CDS" he'd smiled and laughed…

And all the time those people who he worked with-the people who I went to regular picnics with-those people were making things… 

Like the monster that had attacked them in the woods.

            "Michael?" 

Michael nodded at her, assuring her of his continued consciousness.  His eyes were rolled back into his head as he collapsed back onto the seat.

"Michael!"

She drove faster.

-----------------------------------------------

Spencer mansion.

Annette LeDour sat in a stuffed chair in a more private part of the mansion.  Kelly Woods had explained the entire story-along with Matthew-and they were all off informing the rest of the employees of their sudden danger.

She couldn't believe it.

            There had been a spy-well placed-in the organization.  The spy (Kelly would not specify on sex) had been placed along time ago-and was now moving.  The zombies had been let out of the first mansion.

Let out.

As if you could actually let out something like that… they had once been people-people who she might have worked with.  William Birkin and Albert Wesker had known these people…

            The dark was all around her now.  The problem was-the mansion was _huge _and dark.  The bastards who ran accounting didn't like to light the parts of the mansion that weren't in use-so anyone who happened to be caught in some of the lower floor rooms would have to suffer blinding darkness.

She sighed.

"Hello."

"AA-William?"

            William Birkin stepped out of the darkness.  He no longer looked like a friendly green muppet-he looked like the epitome of the heartless creature-hardly human-behind its man made façade.

"How'd you get out?"

"Why didn't you come back down there?"

Because I couldn't think about-facing the both of you.  Because I was scared. 

            Annette leaned back in the chair away from him, "You were the one who told me to stay away.  You and Wesker said that you were infected.  I didn't want to get sick." She tried to sound high and mighty and failed as Birkin took the seat across from hers.  He pulled off his helmet and ran a hand though his soaked blond hair.

" You'll get sweat all over the carpet."

He frowned, "So?"

"So, umbrella's not likely to thank you for it." She sighed, "You might want to hear about Dr. Woods-"

            "I don't-give a damn about Dr. Woods." Birkin said thorough strained teeth; "I want to set the record straight with you.  Now."

Annette gulped.  A thick glob of fear and nothingness hid at the back of her throat.

            "Fine…" she said.  She brushed a hand through her hair, "Talk away Dr. Birkin, I have all the time in the world." She folded her hands across her lap-trying to appear casual.

"Annette…" William Birkin looked down at his legs, "When I first saw you-I thought you were a pretender-a two bit female hack who was in it for the money."

"And I-thought you were a freak-a virus obsessed workaholic."

            "Why don't you tell me what you really feel?" there was no warmth in his tone-no hint of playful laughter, "Anyway-as I watched you work…I realized that things were different." 

"Sort of Different?" the two were completely alone in the library-but Annette kept her voice hushed, "You really _don't _like women do you?"

            Birkin frowned again, "Can you blame me? The only women I've known are either stuck up snobs or weaklings.  People should be able to defend themselves-and _women _have never been able to do that-until-"

"Until what? The advent of the sexual revolution? The wonder bra? Or was it when Umbrella started _hiring _women?" she coughed, "Christ! You guys are such a fucking boys club!"

            "Boy's club? What about you? You women think that you're god's gift to the rest of us-flirting-playing coy-"

"Coy?" Annette laughed out loud, "I think you're the first man I've ever heard use that word."

At least one who wasn't gay… 

            Birkin shook his head, "Why did you sleep with Wesker twice?"

"He co-erced me." Although the second time she'd been very willing, "I blame his drop dead sexy charms-his tight ass body-his blond hair-and his sunglasses." She smirked.

Birkin said nothing.  Obviously, sarcasm dropped below his scientific radar.

            "If those are the things that you find attractive…maybe we shouldn't see each other anymore." 

The last part was said with a bit of a stutter-but it was a knife cutting through her heart.

What? 

True, they'd never been intimate until yesterday.  They had gone from full blown passionate kissing to lovemaking-but he wasn't…warm…kind…

I've known you for two weeks Birkin, and we've never had a conversation outside of work. 

            "Then I consider our relationship terminated."

Jesus…that hurts. 

"Let's talk about this-"

"No!" Birkin whirled about to face her, "There's no need for talk.  You betrayed me-I do not suffer betrayal lightly.  We are finished."

"Lets reconsider this.  It was a one-time thing and-and-_Dammit _if you had paid more attention to me I probably wouldn't have gone off and done something like that! Its like you're obsessed with your work! Its your life!"

If that's what he wants that's just fine. 

"And apparently there's no room for me."

------------------------

A few miles away from Spencer Mansion

"Faster…" Sherry Delaney pushed the gas and ignored the van's complaining.  Michael had passed out completely now-groaning and fingering his arm with his good hand.  Behind them she could hear howling-unearthly inhuman howling that froze her blood and caused her foot to freeze on the gas.

"Faster…"

Michael had spoken.

            Sherry Delaney gunned the motor and listened to its dying gasp as she came hurtling toward a large dark shape in the forest…

"Michael-is that it? Is that the-"?

There was a snap.

Stress-will push creatures over the edge.  It can drive people to sickness, disease, and distraction from the simple satisfaction of living.

In the case of mechanics-stress simply causes things to break.

And the Break cable had done just that.

--------------------------

Inside the Spencer Mansion

Kelly wood outlined the plain truth for the employees.

There was a traitor among them.  He/She had been here for quite some time.  This traitor was there to see the end of not only the Umbrella Corporation but also themselves.  This could not-would not-be tolerated by the Umbrella Corporation who had them, and the public "covered."

Needless to say-the scientists were relieved.

            "Do you hear that?" Dr. Wolf stood slowly and stared out into the night, "It sounds like…a van…"

Two bright yellow eyes appeared in the night before them.  Silhouetted in the window-they were like some great beast…

            "Jesus!" Dr. Wolf and Several others who had huddled against the window dove out of the way as a great red EPA van crashed through.

It was like nothing ever seen-it was straight out of a movie.

--------------------------

Author's note: There's Chapter 11 huzzah! We at last find out why Kelly Woods was everywhere.  (Snickers evilly at Kelly who's gonna hate being a villain) and in celebration of Sherry and her reckless driving! Does the ability to drive recklessly go with the name? Who knows?

Birkin: It had better not!

Sherry: Aww…but daddy.

Birkin: No buts, you're never driving-ever!

            And another note-in case there are those who might have forgotten-I do not own this-make no claim to-the story idea I think is original-but what do I know? You've probably all been dying to do something like this! (evil laugh) 


	12. Chapter 12

Ah yes, Chapter 12 of Love Story.  The way this is going-I've decided three things:

1- Yes, I'm going to write a sequel for their wedding-with humor.

2- Yes-I'm going to include an epilogue chronicling the BEST DAMN FMV in the RE series-with Birkin's death scene.

3- Yes, I'm having fun.

Standard disclaimers apply: I don't own it, Blah, I never will, blah, blah, I'm trying to provide meaning to my meaningless life. Blah, Blah, blah. On with the show! 

------------------------------------------------------

Science is organized knowledge. Wisdom is organized life. 

**Immanuel Kant (1724 - 1804)**
    
    Samantha: If you don't fall in love, you can't get hurt. 
    
    Roberta: But it sure is lonely all by yourself.
    
    ---"Now and Then"

-------------------------

Spencer Mansion

Something had just occurred.

            A large red van bearing the words "EPA" with sub-headings had crashed through the main dining room window and parked happily, right in front of the two exit doors.

Sherry Delaney, Medical Examiner and wife of Daniel Delaney-who happened to be present in that room at that moment-burst forth from the van dragging the chief of the fire department.

"I need a doctor NOW!" Sherry's tone offered no rebuttal.  Scientists with Medical degrees came foreward offering their assistance.

"What." Kelly Woods stood over all of them-a higher being among the masses, "Is This?"

            " My name is Sherry Delaney.  I'm the wife of one of your employees."

"We do have a parking lot you know." Kelly replied, "Why you had to crash your van into the window-"

            "Fuck you whore!" Sherry lost it.  There comes a time in every human being's life when all the rage, fear, frustration, and humiliation just build up and explode out in a great mass of energy.  This moment was Sherry's and hers alone. 

"Fuck you whore! We were coming out to see you about these crazy murders-this man-my friend- found a fucking corpse at his door!"

            "That's no concern of mine." Kelly peered down at Michael as if he were an insect, "Who is this man?" she did not let it slip that the idea of a corpse at a man's door was surprising. 

"He's the chief of the Raccoon City Fire Department." Sherry said, "And he's hurt!"

            "How…trite." 

"What the hell is going on here?" 

All eyes turned to see Albert Wesker appear in the doorway.  He remained inside the haz-mat suit-but that made his figure all the more imposing.  Sherry directed her attention away from Michael-peering through the crowds and looking for Daniel…

"My name is-"

" I know who you are." Wesker ignored Woods completely, "And I figured you'd be showing up sometime soon."

"Incorrect." Wood's tone became icy, "I am the placed "eye" of the board of directors.  Here to report-"

"If anything is done out of line.  Yeah well-"

            "Mr. Wesker." Wood's voice was commanding now, "It is apparent that you, and Dr. Birkin are unable to cope with the stress of running a full-fledged Research faculty." She smiled, "We will seek out new management for this place."

"What!"

William Birkin appeared in the doorway.  Annette stood a few feet behind him like a shadow.

"You can't take this faculty away from us! You just-you can't!" he sounded desperate.  The little boy who had his hand caught in the cookie jar after being allowed one earlier. 

"I am not bound by Umbrella Red's regulations.  You all signed forms-"

            "We signed forms to get pretty pensions and benefits." Wesker said calmly, "You pay people handsomely to do what we do-and we do it.  So you have no place here-no order-no nothin-"

"HELP!"

------------------

Sherry Delaney was on the floor cradling Michael Redfield's head.

            "Mike…Mike can you hear me?"

Mike said nothing.  His eyes were closed in repose and his face smiling softly.  His breathing was soft and slow like an angel, or a sleeping child.

His wounds had stopped bleeding.

            Dr. Wolf had peeled away his bandages, and was staring in horror at the marks in the flesh.  It was she who had called for aid.

"These were made by a Cerberus." Dr. Wolf's voice was high and squeaky-more mouse then fearsome predator, "I'd stake my career on it."

            "But that's impossible!" one of the other scientist's cried, "The Cerberus are still in development!  There are only two in the kennels now, and both of them are-there's no way-" he gestured helplessly at the wounds in Michael Redfield's flesh, "No way they could make claw marks that _big."_

"Is there any way they could have gotten out?" Wesker said.  He moved foreward and bent down next to Dr. Wolf, examining the wounds.  Michael groaned as Wesker touched a finger lightly to the exposed muscle.

One of the other technicians fidgeted nervously.

            "Um…"

"What happened?" his partner whispered, "You were the one who was in charge of the dogs."

Nobody saw Albert Wesker move.

            He stood in front of the tech-a dangerous green shadow-the affect not ruined by the suit.  Behind the faceplate-his eyes were dark and serious and deadly.

"What did you do?"

            "Company policy article sixteen-six six states specifically that all personnel in the event of an evacuation are supposed to shred all unnecessary equipment, files, and animal experimentation." The boy squeaked, "Please don't hurt me! I was only following orders!"

"So were the Nazis." Sherry said from the floor.  Michael remained stone cold, "Who the fuck is going to help him?"

            "You destroyed them?" Wesker continued as if he had not heard, "We didn't sound a red-alert you ass! You've wasted hundreds of dollars of equipment and time-"

"I can fix that."

            William Birkin appeared in the doorway.  Behind him-Annette situated herself between the darkness and the night-like a person on the edge of a cliff.  Birkin strode across the floor-his helmet off.

"What the hell are you doing?" Wesker cried, "You don't know if you're infected-"

            "You the one who's in charge?" Sherry got slowly to her feet, "He said there were two.  This "Wesker" and a boy." She coughed into her fist and ignored the sudden appearance of her husband-a heavyset man with a thick beard, "You the boy?"

Daniel Delaney came foreward, "Sherry-stop this." Daniel was a heavyset man with a thick red beard.  Sherry seemed to release for a moment-her thin body falling like a marionette without strings-but she straightened.

"Are you the boy?"

William Birkin disliked being called the boy, but he nodded stiffly.

            Sherry drew her hand back and brought it full force across his face.  He staggered back a few feet-and crashed into a tech who had been browsing through a book on Russian art.

            Outside a light mist was falling-shrouding the shards of broken window and van in mystery.  A few scientists were contemplating the problem of pushing the van out of the window with a couple of Commandos.  Strangely the black suited familiars who haunted the halls were quite absent.

Birkin picked himself off the floor.  People had backed away to let the young scientist who was the leader of them all face off with this woman who had crashed a van through their window.

            "What wrong did I do to you?" Birkin's eyes were wide and confused, "I've never seen, or met you until today.  And you-hit me-like-"

"You're responsible for those things! Out in the mansion!"

            "I hate to interrupt-but we're going to have to get this boy down to medical." Dr. Wolf looked up from Michael's prone form, "he's infected-no doubt about it."

            Birkin frowned, "That's impossible…Cerberus doesn't carry the virus-"

"Actually it does-"

Annette and Wesker said it together.

            Birkin glanced back and forth between the two of them quickly.  Expressions darted across his face like rabbits loosed from a cage before he turned on his heel and fled from the room, the crowd parting as he went.

Annette sighed and moved over next to Dr. Wolf, "We can get him to medical and give him a dose of vaccine-but I don't know how much it will help…"

            "Sherry, come away from him now." Daniel had his hand on his wife's arm, "Come on Sherry-he's sick-not safe to be around-"

"Are you safe to be around?" she jerked out of his grip.

            Daniel looked confused, "what the hell is that supposed to mean? Listen, we'll go to the conference room-get a cup of coffee-I'll explain everything."

"No Daniel." Sherry stared at him as tears welled up in her eyes, "You…_lied to me!_"

"Now's really not the time for this." Annette stole a glance out the door where William had exited, "We need to get this man to medical."

            "I'll go with you." Sherry said briskly, "I'm a medical examiner with the city."

"Alright." Dr. Wolf said, "Dr. LeDour will you assist? I'm still not a hundred percent behind the vaccine-"

            "Go quickly." Wesker was looking at the body with distain, "He's close to the point of no return."

The point of no return was what they called the period where a vaccine could still fight the powerful anti-bodies.  Once you passed the point of no return you were a Biological Organic Weapon-a BOW.

            "Find out where Birkin went too." Wesker glared at Woods, "The three senior employees should have a meeting-don't you agree?"

Woods had remained silent throughout this.  She smiled a slow cat smile and nodded at Wesker.  The room was beginning to clear now.

"Sherry! If you come back-we're through!" Daniel Delaney was red-faced, "Do you hear me? Through!"

Sherry said nothing as she followed Annette LeDour and Dr. Wolf from the front room.

--------------------------------

Spencer Mansion

Lower Labs

Birkin buried himself in a mass of papers in the lower labs and began to cry.

How Ironic. This was the very same place where he'd met Annette earlier-a lifetime ago.

            " I thought… "

When has anything ever been real but science? 

Birkin dropped the papers on the floor helplessly.  He had told himself constantly that he wasn't going to end up like Marcus-that he was going to start a family-find a nice woman…

But the work was there.

            She was a siren, alluring him.  Even lying awake at night, he was always thinking about future plans, future ways to deal with his research.  

He could not admit the weakness to anyone.  His reputation made him hardly human as it was, and it was difficult to share his passion with anyone.

But LeDour…

He really thought they had something.

Then Wesker had shown up.  Wesker with his good looks, his self-assured attitude.  Nothing could touch him! So knowledgeable, so perfect-the ideal male specimen, the Alpha.

He slammed a fist down on the table. 

Why was I cursed as the Nerd? 

He sighed and put his head on the smooth countertop.  Science was comforting because it was so assured-nothing could change.  Your work was yours-and nobody could take it from you. 

A clear white sheet of paper reposed on the top of the stack.

He frowned.

To Whom It May Concern:

My life has been a mass of contradictions.  I sought to heal, I sought to forgive and forget-but now that things have come to grips-I must face my destiny.

Yet I am not without remorse-and so I leave my final account in passing…

I was born into a family of nothing.  At least we started as nothing.  Soon we became something so much more-but it took eons-and nobody gave a-to use a term I hate-shit.  My father was a brilliant man, but a horrid one.  He was enamored with other women, and my mother-god rest her soul-did not care.  I was left alone, the only child-the only daughter-and I was expected to soldier on.

I will not detail the account of how my father got where he ended up dying.  I will simply say that it consumed me.  I became obsessed with my father's death-and how to avenge him.

How Quaint.

     The daughter he had once overlooked was now bent on revenging the man who had scorned her love and affection throughout childhood.  I plotted and learned.  My mother expressed a desire for me to become a doctor-and so I did.  I became a doctor in one of the greatest states the world has ever seen-and one of the most horrid.

But it was there.

Eating away at me, the thought of killing the people who killed my father was joy.  I did my job with little pleasure-until one day fate handed me a blessing.

     I loved him from the first moment I met him.  It was only after I found out that he worked for umbrella-that my love was set aside for a greater desire, "All children are bound to pay their family blood-debts."  When I found out that I was carrying his child-my resolve was thickened.

He-my husband, and his company-had to die

     I will not detail how it was done…the police will figure it out when they come in with Napalm.  Nature has taken its course well, as it always does.  The species that mankind created in that mansion have found their niche in the environment.

And in closing I leave my name-

            Birkin gasped as he read the letter again.  The signature at the bottom-signed with a familiar flourish was unmistakable amidst the trouble and turmoil of the abandoned lab.  It burned into his mind in each loving stroke…

No. 

It couldn't be true.  He'd liked her, trusted her-

No! 

Impossible! 

He dropped the letter on the floor and stumbled away.

-------------------------------

Hospital Wing

"Give me a syringe." Dr. Wolf said calmly, "Hold him Annette-I don't want him to squirm."

Sherry watched as Michael Redfield moaned again.  His hands gesticulating helplessly at his sides.  The room they had given him was white-and small.  The door however was unusually thick.  

She immersed herself in a painting of flowers on the wall.

            Annette LeDour wrapped her arms around the man who was wiggling helplessly and shrieked.  She withdrew quickly, as if bitten by a snake.

Dr. Wolf's eyes narrowed, "Problem LeDour?"

"He-Smells-"

Annette mentally slapped herself.  She was used to the stench of death and decay…

But never from a naturally occurring case.

            "They all smell LeDour." The smell was becoming overpowering now.  Sherry backed toward the door.  It stunk more then the morgue at RPD HQ.  It was sweet and cloying-like fermented milk.

"I'll inject him now."

Sherry's eyes drifted across the wall to an intercom box.  Gray and plain-it was hidden directly in the blossom of one of the flowers that had been painted on the wall. 

It spoke.

-------------------------------

Spencer Mansion

Above ground

The Scientists had not known what to make of this.

            A few minutes ago they had been treated to humiliation, degradation, anger, rage, and fear.  Various employees chewed over the fact that their lives had suddenly become a soap opera.

Outside the mist had thickened.  Daniel Delaney was staring out into it.

            He couldn't be sure but he thought-just the tickling of a thought-that he had seen dark shapes moving through the glass at the back of the van.  He remained outside however-and wished that he had his gun, a trusty glock-like all the others got.

"Doctor?"

One of the minor researchers came over; "Yes?" he was a mouse of a man-Asian-with a balding head that looked like an egg.

            Daniel licked his lips.  He couldn't decide if it was his imagination or something that actually had appeared outside the window. 

"There was-movement-out there-in the mansion-"

A car Alarm went off.

"Aww Fuck." One of the Techs's said.  Eyes looked up nervously as the Young man smiled broadly, "Don't worry-tis mine.  I'll take care of it."

He jogged out into the entry-way-the night was dark overhead.  Someone had begun lighting the candles-which gave the entire place an eerie-gothic feeling.

"I can't say," the Doctor said, "Perhaps we should go and have a look?"

There were ten people in the room by that time-all nodding consecutively.

Daniel took the gun from the doctor gratefully.  One of the red doors had been ripped off in the process of his wife's chase, he stepped through cautiously.  Outside, the possibility of movement became more obvious-dark shapes were dancing at the back of the van, which was halfway between the mansion wall-and the world around it. 

He pushed open the van door cautiously. 

            His heart jumped as it groaned loudly, and bounced down into the grass. The world outside was lit with moonlight-the faded shapes of cars were comforting walls in the distance-reminders of humanity.

"Hello?"

Nothing.  The darkness itself spoke in silence.

"Hello? Anybody out there? This is private property!"

            Surely, it was teenagers.  They had no respect.  A few had come before writing in graffiti on one of the side buildings.  It was a dare for them-a test for the young boy's manhood-

"Hello?"

Something bounded out of the darkness, and Daniel Delaney screamed.

-------------

Medical Room

That was how it began.

            Sherry listened in horror, as the screams became pleas for mercy-mixed with a horrifying choir of moaning.  Dr. Wolf and Dr. LeDour were talking in hushed voices. 

"It seems to be working." LeDour said quietly, "Look-he's no longer spasming."

Indeed-Michael Wolf had ceased moving.

"When-When will he-wake-"

            "Up?" the woman called Annette LeDour smiled, "In a few minutes I should think.  We gave him a high dose-don't you worry about it."

"No." Dr. Wolf was glancing along with Sherry at the squawk box, "I'd be more worried about what's going on outside right now."

The screams grew louder.

"We'll go back up in a few minutes-once he wakes.  We'll need everybody-and besides-we're safe down here."

-----------------------

Michael Redfield-

He was in a field.

A big field, filled with tall high grass. 

A fire hazard. He thought, I should get somebody to mow this place-I can't imagine what it must be light when it gets hot- 

Come to think of it, it _was _getting warm.  The entire place seemed to be going up in smoke.  

He coughed.

Why don't I have my gear…if I'm out fighting a fire? 

The level of smoke increased.  Michael coughed.  A few feet ahead of him he could see people-

"Uncle Mike!"

Chris? 

" Mike! Here! Its not safe!"

Claire? 

His brother's children.

            He took a step foreward-amazed at how heavy his foot seemed.   It was as if his gear was invisible-strapped onto him like rocks.  

Another step

And another

"Mike! Hey!"

Kevin? 

            Kevin Redfield was there now.  His younger brother with the wife who's name he could never remember.  Michael Redfield kept taking steps-as more of his family clustered around them-distant specters, like those things at the mansion house…

More steps-he had to make it.  If he didn't get out of the field he was going to die.

---------------

Spencer Mansion Medical Room

"Odd."

Sherry Delaney looked up, startled.  She was engrossed in the noises on the squawk box, "What? What is it?"

"His Fever's spiking… "

-------------------

Michael Redfield's mind

He was almost there.  The details on their faces were so clear it made him cry.  Claire with her adorable smile, Chris with his wisdom beyond his years, Kevin-smiling and holding his arms out-

"Michael!"

Sherry? 

Sherry Delaney stood among them.

----------------------

"Give him more medicine!" Dr. Wolf was pulling back the already ruined arm, trying to inject a syringe into the rapidly healing flesh, "He's regressing!"

Sherry Delaney stared at the ballet with wide-horror filled eyes.

-------------------

"I'm sorry Michael."

His family had vanished.  The field was hot now, so hot.  Why couldn't he go? Leave the field with Sherry-go to where family was.  He wanted family, people, people were good.

Good…

"I'm so very sorry." Sherry was smiling, but her face was blurring out of focus.  Michael fell to his knees. 

Why couldn't she let him out? He wanted people.  People were good-soft warm people-warm like fire-FIRE!

"Why?"

" You have to die now."

---------------------

Michael shot straight up.  His eyes flew open and stared directly into Sherry's.

Blood.

            Blood ran down out of his eye sockets and from his mouth in a rush.  Already they were healing-quickly-so quickly

Sherry Delaney screamed and threw herself backwards out the door.  Dr. Wolf put a restraining hand on Michael Redfield's chest and forced him back down.

"He's beyond the point of no return!"

-----------------------

And Michael Redfield felt the fire consume him.

----------------------

Spencer Mansion Medical Room

All Annette LeDour saw was the zombie awake.

            Dr. Wolf screamed as the man sank his teeth into her flesh.  His own flesh was starting to shift-to mutate on his arm-

She ran.

She dove outside and rolled atop the woman, Sherry, her name is Sherry the door creaked on its hinges as the thing with the mutating arm turned its attention and its horrible dead eyes toward them.

"CLOSE THE FUCKING DOOR!"

            Annette pushed the door shut and slid the thick lock into place just as the creature dropped Dr. Wolf's body and began to throw its weight against the door.  She felt something grab _her_ from behind as the woman flew at her screaming.  Sherry Delaney flipped herself over and began to hurl.

Annette moaned and looked up at the face of her rescuer.

Albert Wesker saluted her from inside his suit and went to go help Sherry.

--------------------

Upper Mansion Grounds

Kelly Woods smiled widely as the thing with the long white teeth tore into her flesh.  Her theory had been validated-Birkin and Wesker had failed.  Something had escaped…

A boot appeared near her face.

            "Are you-death?"

She peered upward into the figure's face and recognized it.  She started to say something just as the figure bent its head closer to hers. 

The face!

" I know you-you're-"

The woman smiled consciously, as she traced a red smile from one of Kelly's ears to the other.  As her hearing began to fade, she heard a song-distant-yet clear…

_There was a friendly, but naïve king_

_Who met a very nasty queen_

_The king was loved, but the queen was feared_…

---------------------------

Author's note: AND THERE'S CHAPTER TWELVE! I really, really like the end.  I think it's absolutely great to have-

Birkin- DON'T TELL THEM WHO IT IS!

Author: *whimpers * sowwy.  

            Anyway-I have Chapter thirteen halfway done-so it shouldn't be that bad.  Your reviews are so appreciated (thanks to everybody) I can't say that enough-Resident Evil Rules! 


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter Thirteen-Congratulate me! I got my job! And although that kind of takes away form my computer time (Not really) I continue with this story-and I'll continue with my other stories as well.  Thanks for all the reviews! 

And since its chapter thirteen (A lucky number for all you die hard horror fans) let's get something special done shall we?  I'll have to think on what that could be…

-------------------
    
    I don't understand why God would let us meet, 
    
    If there was no way we could ever be together.
    
    ---"City of Angels"
    
    --------------------------
    
    Spencer Mansion
    
    Author Review
    
    A short review for the audience
    
                   A few minutes ago-a large red van crashed into the front dining room of the infamous (or soon to be) Spencer Mansion.  This interrupted a rather large meeting with an Employee of Umbrella White-and the employees of the Arklay Mountain lab.
    
    William Birkin and Annette LeDour had just terminated their relationship.
    
    And outside, night is deepening…
    
    ------------------

Spencer Mansion

"Give her a few minutes."

Annette watched as the medical examiner finished throwing up and twisted her body back over-sobbing.

"Look-I don't give a shit what you people are doing out here-" Sherry said breathlessly, "I just want to know a few things."

            "A few things." Wesker cocked a rifle he produced from nowhere, " Are more then we can tell you at this particular moment." They had escaped down the medical corridor-away from the Mike-thing that was locked safely in its room with Dr. Wolf's body.

A few minutes ago Sherry had been talking with Michael, telling him that everything was going to be okay.  It had grown to be more then a friendship-it was a bond between them-and then-

Nothing.  Did Daniel and I ever have this much? 

Now was not the time for that however.  The hallway was quiet.

"It's possible there are _more _of them." Wesker said as he glanced back the way they'd come, "Those doors are reinforced-"

            Annette felt sick.  The radio from the squawk box was loud in her ears.  There was trouble in the upper levels.  They were trapped between heaven and hell.

She wondered if Birkin was alive.

She wondered if Irene was alive-and recalled that she had not seen her since-since-she'd gone down to the basement on the fools quest.

            "Albert-What about Irene?"

"That's who we're going to get."

            "Who the hell is Irene?" Sherry Delaney said, "An employee? Another worker of evil?" Sherry crossed herself as a loud scream echoed down the hallway-followed by several others.

It was the world itself screaming.

            "My wife." Wesker said, as calmly as if he were discussing the weather, "Irene Wesker."

Sherry said nothing.

Albert Wesker had shed his radiation suit when he entered the lower levels.  By now the undead that had swarmed through the mansion were everywhere, but he had faith.

His scientists could survive.

They were trained to.  Issued guns on the day that they joined-everyone from janitor to senior researcher was experienced with the art of war and deadly combat.  That was something that Umbrella prided itself on…

"This place is a fuckin' maze." Sherry Delaney said, "How are we going to find our way out?"

            " I memorized the area layout." Wesker said as he shouldered the gun, "And Annette works here as well.  This place isn't that complicated-when you get down to it." This was going to be annoying, having a civilian to drag around the labs…

            Sherry shuffled her foot.  She was still wearing her uniform from the day before (Day? It seemed like a thousand years) when she'd been a happy, but incredibly naïve wife.  She glanced enviously at Wesker's gun.

"Can I get one of those?" 

            Annette stared back at her, "What? Why?"

"I agree with Mrs.…Delaney's idea." Wesker said, "You both should be armed-just in case our former colleagues decide to order a little take out." He chuckled-then stopped when he realized that neither of the women were laughing.

Okay-fine. 

            "Maybe we should find out who's doing this-or who did this." Annette said.  They entered a nearby lab that was strewn with papers from the hasty evacuation earlier, "A little investigation around the mansion-"

"Its not just here." Sherry put in.  She was flipping through papers idly her finger pushed a test tube over and spilled clear water across them, "I-Michael before-"

            Wesker turned to her, "Go on."

Sherry did not know if she could continue-her throat was filled with grief.

            "Michael-when he found that corpse at the door.  He said that he knew you-that he stole corpses from you…" she collapsed onto a stool, which seemed to abound all over the lab, "He said that you asked him to steal bodies from me-"

            Wesker thought back to the day the older fireman had come knocking on the Spencer mansion, all to warn them about a simple fire risk. We didn't handle that well. Damn commandos.  Actually it had been the former president who wanted to make use of the man…

            "Yes.  We asked him to steal corpses in exchange for him keeping our whereabouts a secret.  Did he attempt to find us again?"

"Yes…but he got lost." Sherry said, "We came to another mansion-"

"Another mansion?" Annette pulled a lab coat off the wall and put it on, out of habit, "You mean to tell me that you went all the way to the executive training faculty?"

            "Is that what it was?" Sherry's eyes narrowed, "I'm sorry- I thought it was haunted.  The door was hanging wide open, and there was evidence of horrible crimes being committed-we found papers left by a child who was killed for god sake-"

Wesker frowned, "Unlocked?"

            "That's right." Sherry snapped, "Unlocked.  And if it had remained locked, Michael Redfield might still be alive today-"

"That is impossible."

"Why?" Annette asked, "Its an old building-at least I always heard that it was.  Maybe the door broke in-"

"It is impossible…" Wesker's throat was dry, "Because I locked it."

------------------------------

1978

Friday

It was over.

            A young Albert Wesker stood nervously before the door of the place he'd called home for the last few months.  In his hand, tightly, was a key.

"This has to be done." The man who stood beside him was a tall man with no hair and a long drawn out scar, "You know it has to be done boy."

Albert Wesker nodded; the key went in the lock-and it was over.

-------------------------------

Spencer Mansion

Present day

"Are you telling me." Sherry's voice was rock hard, "that the whole reason that all those disappearances happened, that everything happened-is because someone unlocked a FUCKING DOOR?"

"That appears to be the gist of it." Wesker smiled roguishly, "Indeed."

"Holy Mother of god." Annette crossed herself, "That's true isn't it? It's the only way the zombies could have gotten out…"

            "Zombies? What is this Day of the Dead?" Sherry pushed the papers she'd been ruffling through aside, "Is _that _what you people are doing out here? Making zombies?"

Sherry began to laugh.

            "Oh, and they have an eternal hunger, rising from the grave with each dawn after reading the necronomicon- "She snickered, "And they eat the flesh of the living-only to awake horribly with each evening!  Next-on the late, late, late movie show!" 

"Stop it." Annette cried, "This is good work!"

            "But wait! There's more! The young military boyfriend returns home to find his wife missing, and everyone he's ever known turned into raging monsters! Not only that, but the horrors of man's creation have produced horrific cross breeds! Zombie dogs! Zombie butterflies! Zombie nachos!"

She dropped to the floor and began to laugh hysterically.

"Zombie cats! Zombie bees! Zombie crows! Zombie moths! Everything subject to the horror of horrors-the undead." She let out an evil laugh, "All created by a bunch of mad scientists in a laboratory high in the mountains-"

"STOP IT!" Annette hit her, "We're doing good work! We're creating weapons that will make our country invincible! We're the good guys!"

"You." Sherry said between tears of laughter, "Are deluded psychos who are playing mad scientist on a grandiose scale."

She dove at Sherry with her hands out; trying to push her-or hit her.

Wesker grabbed Annette around the waist and flung her back against one of the cabinets-gently.  He stared down at Sherry with his oddly hollow voice from the radiation suit-

"Do you feel better now?"

            The tears flowed for real this time down Sherry's cheeks.  She wiped them with the back of her hand and stood up slowly.

"Yeah-I-I-think so."

"Good."

            Annette pushed a hand out and hit one of the cabinets.  She slowly pulled herself up from the floor. 

"Ow."

            "Lets go get my wife." He cocked the rifle again, and Sherry began to laugh hysterically at the insanity of it all.

----------------------------

Upper Levels.

He had to find her first.

            He had to find her, and kill her.  His colleagues were dying all around him-it was easy to pull the trigger on any poor sap who he happened to run across who was in the midst of changing.

They were being slaughtered.

In a way he admired her, a stroke of luck that the executives hadn't thought of. 

            Zombies weren't intelligent enough to open doors.  A human lost all thought process in the transformation.  It took a special kind of intelligence-the kind they were trying to develop with the Tyrant-to keep the human intelligence intact in the barest sense of the word.

She was intelligent.

It was going to be hard to kill her.

            A door was thrown open before him, revealing one of his colleagues-a technician-in a desperate tangle with one of the creatures-a senior researcher.  The irony was sickening, a few days ago she'd been ordering him around and he'd refused her.  Now she was attempting to bite him-to _eat _him.  The flesh peeled away from her once beautiful mouth and the hair beginning to fall from her scalp.

"Please…"

The technician was staring at him.

" Please Dr. Birkin…"

William Birkin nodded and fired at the man's head. 

            The zombie looked confused-it glanced back and forth between Birkin and the man she'd just been eating.  Warm, sticky gooey brain and flesh was spilled all over the floor from where the man's face once was.

The zombie stared up at him with its dead eyes and _smiled_.  It was _thanking _him for feeding it its former human friend.

He fired into her heard next-as it had it's back turned.

Rest in Peace. 

            He stepped over the scene before him and continued down the hallway.  In the east-the faint pink light of dawn would just begin to break-

He collapsed.

His body felt like it was _tearing _itself inside out.

I'm infected. 

            How could he have been so stupid?  Annette and Wesker, they'd clouded his judgment and made him loose focus. He turned his body sideways and retched all over the carpet.  

Symptoms…have to think…what are the symptoms? 

            Sweating, irrational behavior, violent vomiting-it wasn't T-which included itchy skin.  Thank God. He continued trying to list them in his mind.  Blurred Vision-that's a final sign-hallucination- 

Was he hallucinating?

The person, the woman, the friend he was looking for was calmly walking through the field's of the slain.  She wore a long violet cloak, and swung a very familiar key around on a chain. 

My God. 

            "William, William." Irene Wesker said as she got to her knees before him, "What a pair we make hmm? You discovered my little letter-which is why you didn't stay down in the labs where it was safe."

"I-Irene-"

            "Did you like my little surprise? I left a few of them.  I knew when you found the head of the guardsmen on the gate that you'd figure it out-or I thought you would."  She smiled, her eyes and features cruel, "You idiot.  It took you a hell of a lot longer to figure it out didn't you?"

"You're carrying his child-is that what drove you mad?" the sudden clarity surprised him, "Couldn't deal with it-"

"Fuck you Birkin." Irene slapped him and wiped the blood from his mouth on the carpet, "You and your misogynic ideas.  You male-PIG!"

She hit him again.  They were in a small alcove off the hallway that was screaming.  The dead and dying were littered around them.

"You think you're so high and mighty?  You and my husband, the board of directors-all of Umbrella.  Do you know what weapons research really is? Its men playing with their cocks-abandoning all reason and rational behavior so that they can be boys with toys.   And what happens when somebody doesn't play fair? They have to go and make new toys of course.  New toys that kill people, new toys that make people hurt, that make them cry." 

She smiled again.

"That's not why I'm doing this however."

            "I'm sure you'll reveal it." Birkin coughed, "In a series of long drawn out flashbacks and musings on life in general."

Irene laughed harshly.  She threw back her head and laughed until tears streamed down her cheeks.

"Oh no.  This is going to end on my terms-not yours-and not my husbands.  I'm going to enjoy watching you devour him-watching your intelligence that you love _so _very much slip away.  And you aren't going to end up like a monster-oh no! You'll be a common zombie.  That's what you hate isn't it Birkin? The feeling that you-re-just-like-everyone-else."

---------------------------

A/N-There's Chapter Thirteen! The traitor reveals herself! Birkin as a common zombie? Impossible!

Birkin-damn straight! If I die-I'm going to turn into a tyrant *sage nod *

Author- yes, as anyone who's played Re2 can tell you.

Birkin-Re what now? * Confused *

Author- Anyway-chapter fourteen cometh! It'll wrap up soon-I promise : ) 


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter Fourteen: Well here's Chapter Fourteen.  And since I can't really think of anything majorly awesome, creative, and cool to do in the story to thank all of you guys for reading…I'll have to-keep thinking!

Disclaimer: Every few chapters I just have to go off and say the usual.  I don't own it-I never will-blah, blah.

Yes.

To BioVirus: Thank you for your opinion! I wish I could fix it, but sadly the story has already been written.  Your constructive comments were really, really helpful.  This is a simple opinion-nothing more, and just as you are entitled to your opinion-I am entitled to mine. * Slow smile * 

----------------------------------

Hannah-are you trying to kill me?

Selena-No sweetie, I'm making you not care

-28 days later

Dr. Peter Silberman- When you're in a traumatic situation you can see things, impossible things…crazy things…insane things…things that will take years to get over…

Terminator 3 "Rise of the Machines"

-------------------------------

Spencer Mansion

Annette LeDour, Sherry Delaney, and Albert Wesker were trying to survive.

And they were doing a terrible job.

            "FIRE THE DAMN GUN!" Wesker raised the rifle again and hit one of the zombies in the head.  They were spawning-biting the employees of Arklay labs and leaving them to turn a few minutes later.  They'd seen collections of survivors-mostly scientists clinging to the arms of commandos. 

Sherry fired-hitting the boy No more then a kid… right between the eyes.  Annette's smaller gun was doing just as well-she pegged two in succession, and glared angrily at Sherry.

"We should have left when we had the chance!"

The three of them had been in the labs throughout the "Explanation stage" A few minutes after the declarations of the past-they had found themselves mobbed.

            "YAOW!" Sherry pushed the zombie off her leg, "The fucker almost got me!" 

This is too fucking weird. 

She tried to think of something rational.  Something to keep her from losing it as she watched heads explode as Wesker and Dr. LeDour fired.

Terminator! Think about Terminator.  Who was he? Who played him? 

"Mrs. Delaney-"

Big guy-young guy.  First scene-think about the first scene-what happened? What did he do? He walked up to a group of kids' and- 

"DELANEY!"

            Sherry frowned and stared upward.  Dr. LeDour and Wesker were both staring at her expectantly the creatures-their friends-were howling at the door.  

"Into the vent ma'am." Dr. LeDour said.  They were standing atop a collection of tables that had tumbled over in the fighting, "It's the only way out."

"O-okay." 

            She hesitated for a moment, and then stepped gingerly over to the next island staring down at one of the bodies, Was that one of mine? Did I kill him? 

Wesker had removed his helmet.  He stared upward into the vent for a moment, and then turned to Dr. LeDour.

"I'll go first."

            He was actually kind of homely looking without the helmet.  His sunglasses had gotten lost in the fight and his eyes were wide blue and intense. He placed a hand securely on the lip of the vent and hoisted himself up-his green foot was the last thing that both women saw.

"You first ma'am." Dr. LeDour's eyes were downcast, "Civilians before employees."

            "I'm not a civilian." Sherry growled, "And anyway, Doctor-you'd better stop calling me Ma'am."

"Get up into the vent ma'am."

"My name is Sherry."

"Get up into the vent Sherry."

Sherry turned her eyes upward seething.  Wesker's hand reached out of the darkness.  She gripped it tightly, and felt hands on her behind and on her legs.

"Get your hands off my-"

Her body moved foreward and she put a second hand out to steady her.  The vent was cramped-Wesker was curled up into a fetal position staring down at Dr. LeDour.

"Ready Annette?"

Dr. LeDour nodded from the floor.

Annette-her name is Annette. That sounded like something she should remember.  She pulled herself back a bit and lowered herself to her stomach-lifting a hand outward to help Annette into their little hidey hole.

Once the three of them were in-Wesker put the cover back on.  The only light emanating from the three slits that made up the ventilation shaft.  

"Well this is cozy."

            "We can get to the upper levels by going through the vents." Wesker said, "Normally they lock down in the event of an outbreak-to prevent the spread of infection."

"Why didn't it lock down then when the two of you were in the basement?"

Wesker frowned, "It should have…but maybe there wasn't a spread of infection then.  The Virus can't get airborne-it translated by touch.

            Annette was stabbed with fear, "Is there any chance-either of you-"

"Birkin." Wesker curled up tighter.  The three of them could hear moans and growls from beneath them.  "Birkin was attacked-I have no idea-if-if"

He took his helmet off. 

Annette shivered and backed into Sherry.

            "Listen…" Sherry bit her lip, "I'm-sorry okay? I don't think I can ever forgive you guys-but you saved my ass back there and I'm grateful." She had decided to make amends when she saw how sad they seemed about this "Birkin" fellow.  He was the guy I hit… 

Am I infected too? 

"Its okay." Annette smiled.  Wesker was moving ahead of them, "Don't worry about it."  She patted a reassuring hand on Sherry's shoulder and Sherry smiled. 

Everything was going to be okay.

-------------------------------------

Spencer Mansion

Main Dining Hall.

Irene adjusted Birkin's head so that it rolled foreward-making him look like he was drugged.

"There now." she smiled and patted his cheek, "Isn't that better?"

Birkin groaned and said nothing.

            Poor Birkin… Irene shook herself to slay the feelings of good.  William Birkin was one of them-one of the ones who-by no fault of his own-was responsible for his father's death.  She could not allow herself a moment of weakness!

Where to from here? 

She had to lure Annette and Albert here.  

            The question is-how do I do that? She glanced back at Birkin who appeared to be asleep.  There would be no greater pleasure then watch the man that Annette LeDour loved devour her alive.

Irene smiled.

            "You hungry Birkin?"

William Birkin shook his head feebly.  He tried to shift his body so that the chair would tip over-and failed.

"Aww, don't worry.  Albert will be here soon enough dear brother-and Annette." As far as she knew they still had feelings for each other.  The poor boy had been torn in two when he'd gotten the news of Annette's betrayal.

A perfect time for vengeance- 

She stopped short.

            She'd wanted vengeance for so long that she'd told herself that her love between Wesker was ultimately nothing.  They did share a connection-which was why she was willing to forgive his constant infidelity, but now-that her revenge was so near its completion…

Is it really the right thing? 

She glanced back at Birkin-silhouetted against the early dawn outside.  She could free him and go find one of the scientists who were still left alive.  They could heal him-give him a vaccine-he wasn't yet to the point of no return-was he?

"Birkin?"

Birkin remained motionless.

"William? Are you okay?"

            William Birkin raised his head feebly.  His eyes were glassy and rolled back into his head-his look filled with loathing.

You cannot stop now.  Would your father have stopped? 

No.

Irene Wesker's father-Lord Oswell Spencer, would not have stopped for anything.

(A/N: OMG! Yet another major plot-twist! Stop yelling all ya die hard fans-there's no record of Spencer's family-so I can make up what I please * sticks tongue out * at least right now…hrm. )

-----------------------------

In the Vents

Once it was decided that the surest way to reach the outside world would be to go up through the vents-they went.  Wesker led-shining a portable mag-lite.  Sherry came up the middle coughing because of years of accumulated dust and debris.  Annette led the rear-saying nothing.  

It's cold in here. She balanced her foot on one of the sidewalls and pushed her up just as Sherry and Albert were doing ahead of her, I want to get out. 

She wanted to get out and apologize.

            Birkin is such a moron. She thought, I'm only 24 years old! What does he expect? Complete maturity? 

_He expects honesty, just like I did. _

She shuddered.  Her grandmother Cassandra LeDour's voice would sometimes appear at the most inopportune times.

Grandma LeDour wasn't 24 years old and working for the greatest company ever. Annette thought as Wesker led them down a side tunnel that was getting awfully cramped, "Hey-are we anywhere near where we're supposed to be?"

Albert blinked at her-owlish.  He was far in front-so his eyes were dim pools of light.

"What?"

"Are we anywhere near where we're supposed to be?"  Annette repeated wearily, "My ass is getting sore." And I'm sick and tired of listening to the voices in my head. 

            Up Ahead-Albert peered into the murky gloom.  Earlier they had hit the three hills that meant they were going up a level-but now he was not so sure.  In between the two of them, the woman Sherry was coughing violently.

He turned back and put a hand on her shoulder, "Are you alright?"

            Sherry coughed harder.  Her blond hair was soaked with dust and her clothes were in a worse state then his, "Yeah-I'm-*cough* okay-I think its just-" Sherry shook herself, "Spiders-we ran into a big web of them awhile back-I'm _violently _allergic to their webs-to their bodily fluids-everything."

"What?" Albert squinted.  He'd never heard of anybody being allergic to Spiders…

"My mother always said it was a delayed reaction to a bite that I had when I was a kid.  I get a whiff of them-their webs especially-and I start coughing, I get a horrible rash, and my throat swells up." 

"You're serious?" he'd seen stranger things.

"Absolutely." Sherry coughed again, "Although I have no idea as to why I'd get so sick…"

            Annette froze behind them-her face pale as the moon.

"LeDour?" Wesker glanced behind him, "You okay now?"

"I just remembered something." Annette's voice was barely above a whisper.  Sherry growled as Wesker leaned into her to hear, "The _spider_ it got loose after killing that technician remember?"

The spider had been an ill-timed but appropriately named experiment.  One of the many tests to determine the affect that the T-Virus had on non-human organisms.  Unbelievable growth, unaccountable ferocity, all these and more were factors of something that escaped-almost three months ago.

"I thought you gassed the vents."

"WE did!" Annette's voice was shrill now, "But we never sent in a team to see if it was dead! We used Zykolon B gas-"

The same gas the Nazi's had used.

"And we figured that it was dead-but along the way I've been seeing hundreds of _smaller _webs-and I'm thinking that maybe this wasn't the best idea-going into the vents because it'll be dawn soon and-"

"We stay in the vents." Would the creatures rest if dawn came upon them? "Agreed?"

"Fine." Annette rubbed her arms, "When we find Irene can we see if-William-"

Albert Wesker nodded, "Did the two of you patch things up?"

Annette stared down at her dirty hands.

            "I wanted to-but he-said we-we were through." She sighed, "I'll talk to him when we get out of here-surely he has to see-see that-"

"Annette." Wesker's voice was calm, patient.  The older brother-rather then the lover, "Do you even know what you're feeling?"

Annette stopped.

            Birkin had come on so strong to her.  They had exchanged looks, words, private glances throughout the two weeks-but never anything else.  Never a single date until the Pravda incident.  Birkin had treated her like nothing more then a colleague.  Then there had been the incident outside-unrivaled lust that had been hibernating within the both of them.  

He just didn't know how to express his feelings. He treated every conversation like he was giving a lecture, or completing a business transaction, Like me… 

            She wanted the kind of warmth that Jack had given her (Jack? From so long ago…) and Birkin hadn't provided it.  He acted like a robot-that was all he was-

But you stayed with him, you wanted to help him.  What does that say about you? 

The Attraction. Annette decided, Was mutual. 

"If-I might interject something-" Sherry spoke up suddenly between the two of them, "When I first met Daniel, he was a bit of a cold fish.  I didn't understand why he looked at life so differently-from me." She blushed gracefully, like a queen, "I had to give a lot in the beginning…because I believed that the heart wanted what it wanted." She sighed, "We got married-and then the bastard lied to me…"

William would never lie. The truth hit Annette like a slap in the face, I did, but he wouldn't.  Not to me-because He made me an equal partner. 

"Ladies-I hate to interrupt this little-chat…" Wesker's voice was distant ahead of them, "But I think I might have discovered _why_ the medical examiner is having such a crazed reaction…"

            The eyes of the creature appeared like lights-one, two, and three-eight.  A huge furred leg reached itself out of the darkness and _hissed._

The three humans reacted like any normal human would if they were trapped in an enclosed space with a gigantic spider.

"RUN!"

Or in this case, scramble. Annette felt herself fall backward as Sherry screamed and clawed over her body.   The three of them temporarily forgetting that the vent sloped directly _down _to the next level-

"YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH."

Annette became "Annette-Sled" as Sherry and Albert piled on top of her.

            "Is it still following us?" She looked up into Sherry's wide eyes.  The journey grew darker and the world was filled with the shrieks and moans of the three people.

"Maybe-I can-get off-a SHOT!" Wesker triumphantly produced a gun and fired backward at the advancing spider-which didn't seem to be plagued by the drop. 

It was moving _faster._

"Shoot the eight legged freak!" Sherry cried.  They hit a level with a turn off.  Annette cried out when she felt herself stop a few feet from the edge-and breathed a sigh of relief as sherry climbed off of her.  Wesker put out a hand and twisted his body so that he stopped before pushing her off into the darkness.

"Thanks." She said in relief.

            He didn't offer a reply as the Spider came tumbling after him.  Dim light from yet another vent illuminated its ugliness-eight eyes, eight legs-horrific size with terribly long fangs-

Annette pushed herself into the turn off and followed the rapidly moving Wesker and Sherry.  She paused only a moment, to smile in satisfaction as she heard the Spider's final hiss as it dropped suddenly into darkness.

Sherry was now in the lead.

            "Where too from here?" it was colder here-the vent system apparently having been activated, "We need to get out!"

"This is the Dining room level." Wesker said from the back, "Make a right up at the next turn and we'll come to one of the minor dining halls."

            "Ya know…"Annette turned back to him, annoyed by his superiority, "How is it that _you_ know exactly where we're going all the time? What kind of person memorizes the ventilation system in a haunted house?"

"The dedicated kind."

If this is what passes for dedication, them I'm really sorry I took that guy up on his offer. Annette followed Sherry for what seemed like hours through the vents.

------------------------------

William Birkin-

He had to fight it.

Think of something-happy-keep you-human… it was hard to find a happy memory in his all too short life.  He was 26 years old and most of his achievements seemed to involve dead people. 

Damn.

            Annette's face floated out of the darkness, she was arguing with him about something what was it? Something about the T-Virus…

Irene was looking into his face with concern, That bitch. Who knew that she was Oswell Spencer's daughter? He barely remembered the man, and Lord Spencer had hardly seemed the type to have a family.

That seems to run strong in Umbrella… 

He tried to imagine what it would be like to be a father and shook his head feebly.  He'd be terrible.  There were more important things in his life and he couldn't lie to himself about them.

Live for your work…

But his work was what had brought him to this end!

Annette? 

Her face swam out of the darkness again.  

Live for her? 

            Could he do that? She had betrayed him, but she was his partner-one of the few-who he considered equal in some small way.  The only one who gave her work, as much attention as he did his-and didn't try to mushy it up, or anything-?

Or is that what she wanted?  Closeness? More of a relationship then just that one kiss- 

The kiss that decided so many things.

"Birkin…make it in time…"

            William Birkin swallowed and tried to speak, "Wh-wh-What?"

"I said…" Irene's voice was soft; "I hope that Albert and Annette make it in time."

----------------------

A/N: Yes! Chapter Fourteen! Recently, I've been getting a lot of people (mostly friends who read the fic) telling me that my portrayals of some of the characters are a little off.  Let me promise you now, the entire adventure-that accompanies Annette and William's romance _does _have a purpose that should become clear shortly.  I'm not saying that my way is the right way-I'm just expressing my opinion * sorry but I need to rant, I've had kind of a bad day * 

            My entire goal was to bring warmth to characters that didn't really seem to have a lot of it.  Even workaholics have things that mean things to them in their lives-they're people too-not just mindless drones that do nothing but, "Work, Work, and Work!"  I wanted to portray William and Annette as flawed people cause that's the way I saw the character-and that's the great thing about games and anime and stuff-is that they are flawed! That's why we can relate to them! Unlike Loony Tunes where it's just, "Cat hit mouse, mouse run-etc." Anyway, I just wanted to say that, and I hope it makes sense.  If I were to do something about Leon and Claire, or Chris and Jill, I would probably do something of the same thing.  People are flawed, sometimes weak creatures-even characters. (God knows I've written about my fair share in my own stuff) get-used-to-it.

Sorry, that's just my two cents. * Wince * Chapter Fifteen forthcoming.


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter Fifteen: Ah, yes, here's chapter fifteen (And this officially marks my longest fanfiction at Fanfiction.net! huzzah!) I really do hope you're enjoying the story * grin * and offering flames, criticisms, critiques, and all the rest.

On wif the show!

------------------

-Humorous Disclaimer -

Spencer Mansion-

In the vents

Disembodied voice: We rejoin our heroes, in the vents.

Annette: Yes.  And what fun we've had.  Getting chased by a poorly described monster, then going down a tunnel that wasn't mentioned in the first few descriptions of our climb-

Sherry: Question-if we're in vents-how can three grown people fit in a vent? Particularly one as large as Albert Wesker?

Wesker: Is that some kind of slander?

Sherry: * nervous * No, no-I'm just saying that we're all a bit big to be climbing around comfortably in vents-

Wesker: Are you saying something about my size? Or my weight?

Sherry: * gulps * no! No! You're a very nice looking guy, I assure you-

Annette: Two words: Poetic License. 

Sherry: * muttering *that must be a lot of paperwork to fill out.

Wesker: Standard Author issue.

- The author appears in a puff of pink smoke. –

Author: Got that right.

Wesker: Shouldn't we restart the story?

Author: Naw, let's let Irene and Birkin have a little fun hm? 

* Down Below *

Birkin: Hey! I'm dying down here? Hello? Annette Darling? Come save me?

*Irene is quietly snoring * 

Annette: *muttering * go save yourself. 

Birkin: Oh yeah that's REAL nice! When I get turned into a big bloodthirsty monster in RE2 you'd BETTER believe that I'm going after you next you little Bi- 

* Words are drowned out by a sudden succession of beeps *

Sherry: * Wide-eyed * wow, that was worse then the Osbournes!

Wesker: Actually they're next door.

Sherry: I thought you guys lived next to the house from Thirteen Ghosts?

Wesker: No, you're thinking of the _haunted _mansion.

Annette: The Disney ride?

Wesker: * exasperated * no, no-look.  All the big scary houses are all on one big long stretch of dirt road in the woods.  Right between Raccoon-Silent Hill, that town from Jeepers Creepers-

Sherry: You mean all the horror stories are clumped together?

Wesker: *nods *

Sherry: * shudders * what an awful thought.

Annette: Hey, at least we're far away from the mansion from the movie!

Wesker: Now, Now Annette-the strengths and weaknesses of the movie are all a matter of opinion.  Personally… * nervous * I rather liked it.

- Silence -

Author: That's disgusting.  That movie was a slander on everything Resident Evil! That son of a whore Anderson- dragged the good name of Capcom through the mud and then expects us-

* Wesker shoves the author down the same large hole where the Spider fell *

Annette: *peers down after her * was that wise?  We're kind of playing on her turf.

Wesker: Relax, we're loaned characters.

Sherry: Is this where I get to do the disclaimer?

Wesker: Yep.  

Annette: Sad isn't it, that the author is so desperate to make these people laugh that she wastes two pages on a really long and supposedly humorous disclaimer.

* From down in the Hole * If you aren't careful I'll make you do it again with Wesker!

Sherry: *muttering * then we make the leap from Fanfiction.net to Adult Fanfiction.net. 

Annette: Better do the disclaimer before William has a heart attack down there.

* Birkin continues cursing *

Sherry: Seriously, what do you see in that guy?

Annette: * Mae West voice * He makes me laugh Darlin' 

* Both Sherry and Wesker shudder* 

Sherry: The following story is fictional.  Written by an author who obviously has no life for a bunch of people who seem to really like it.  The story, plot, movie, and all other related titles, sigils, trademarks, catchphrases, and etc. are owned and operated by Capcom International.  The characters that don't seem familiar were created solely in perpetuity by the author for creative purposes.  The names have been changed to protect the innocent.

Annette: This Chapter has been brought to you by the Letter W, as in"_ why _god, is this happening to _me_ of all people?" 

Wesker: You of all people? You have a bit part in a sequel game and you die by getting crushed by a pipe! You aren't a major character kid. Sorry.

* Wesker and Annette Scuffle *

Sherry: Can we start the show now? Please? For real?

* The author reappears in a puff of blue smoke *

Author: Meh, okay.

* Author swirls about a magic wand and the entire vent fills with pink and blue smoke *

Wesker: * coughing * Aww Crap! The wand broke!

Annette: This is the THIRD freakin' time that's happened!

* From Down below *

Birkin: Why is there all that pink and blue smoke coming out of the vent?

Irene: * yawns * 'nother magic want accident I expect. 

Birkin:  *sigh * can I just skip ahead? To Re2? Please? I'll be extra good, I promise.  I want to turn into a bloodthirsty ravenous monster _now._

* Pink and blue smoke overruns the screen as the author begins the actual story*

-----------------------------

In the vents-

(The real story)

"Not much farther now!" Wesker called from behind, "There should be a great big vent-and we'll run into the kitchens."

"And in the kitchens?"

"It's light now." Annette said from behind them, "There shouldn't be any problem with the Undead-the Virus dies in sunlight."

How appropriate Sherry thought as she continued crawling, Like a crazy horror movie. 

            The nightmare was almost over, it had to be.  Sherry could see four thin slits of light ahead of her-casting gray shadows across the space beneath her hands.

Its over. 

She wanted to laugh.

She stopped short when she felt movement behind her.  Wesker was apparently ambling over Dr. LeDour in a poor attempt to get to the vents.  Sherry pushed herself against the wall and closed her eyes when very familiar haz-mat suit fabric blocked them.  Wesker fumbled with some sort of latch, and the corridor of darkness illuminated.

Light! 

Wesker dropped out first, and Annette LeDour appeared beside Sherry.

            "Is it over?" Sherry looked nervously at her female companion, "I mean really? Honestly over?" 

Annette looked over at her and nodded.

Sherry breathed a sigh of relief as Annette dropped out of the vent.

"Hey!"

She leaned down and stared into Dr. LeDour's face.

"Yeah Sherry?"

She remembered my name… 

            "Listen, I wanted to say thank you for being so…well-supportive." It sounded silly in Sherry's ears, but it had to be said, "I mean, I don't know what I would have done-this place is so-"

"Fucked up?"

I wasn't going to say that. " Yeah, essentially…" 

Annette laughed harshly, "Only the crazy survive here. However you really must believe me, we are trying to do some good here." She held out a hand, "Come on down."

Sherry took the hand and grasped it tightly as she slid out of the vent on her back.  She winced as the sharp edge cut, and a dark truth hit her square in the face, If the monsters didn't get me-they won't let me leave-regardless of Daniel. 

She wondered if her husband was dead.

            Her feet touched solid ground and she smiled.  Annette hopped down to the floor and walked over to where Wesker was standing a few feet away.  Sherry followed nervously.

They were in a kitchen, where the white and steel blended seamlessly.  Pots and pans were overturned-showing signs of a struggle.  The kitchen itself was empty and filled with silence.

            Sherry stared about, nervous.  Wesker's eyes were alert staring at the swinging kitchen door.

"Is there anything here?" Sherry jumped as her foot came into contact with a large overturned pot, "Those-things?"

            "Zombies." Annette examined a large eggbeater, "I think the kitchen staff headed out when we sounded the evacuation drill." I'm getting desperate for another familiar friendly face. 

That thought brought her mind back to William.  He would know how to deal with zombies; he'd been around them for years-longer then Annette.  He had survived-she knew it.

Such concern for someone you find emotionally unstable and unsupportive… 

            A single zombie appeared in the doorway wearing the stained garb of a cook.  Its head was twisted back cruelly.  Sherry stepped foreward cautiously.

In the light of day, it just looks sad and pathetic… 

The gun exploded, thunder in the desert.

How sad. The zombie fell foreward and lay still, Its nothing but a sick person, a sick human being.   She took a few steps foreward and stared at the creature, hanging half out of the doorway with one armed lolled back.  It looks like it's sleeping now… 

Despite the hole in it's face.

Wesker strode over followed by Annette, "Life's a bitch-"

"And then you die." Annette stepped from behind him, "Sherry, are you okay?  He wasn't really human in the end.  Besides, you nailed a few yourself-that's the best thing you can do in this case."

"He was…human…"

"Not anymore."

            Sherry turned back to the two of them; her eyes were filled with tears.  Outside the light was blazing fully now, merrily twinkling in the sky.

"How…you can justify this is beyond me." She cried, "You-you did this! You made these people this way! You're friends-your co-workers-PEOPLE! Your fellow human beings!"

            "Now's not the time to become self righteous ma'am." Wesker stepped forward and stared down at her coldly, "What's the difference between what we do and the rest of the world? So you've discovered what we do for a living, and it's building weapons.  You don't think the government has something like this going on?"

"Every government in the world." Annette said softly, "We're just one of the corporations who engage in doing it secretly."

            "Right.  Every government.  Why? Because people are beasts at heart ma'am.  We're just more honest about it then most."

"Justify it as much as you wish." Sherry said from the floor, her eyes defiant, "and it's still murder in the second degree."

            "Try to understand it from our point of view." Annette said.  She had to make this woman understand why their work was so important.  Her face softened to a smile as she stared down at Sherry, "We're _protecting _you.  All of the United States, these…" her voice trailed off, "Weapons are some of the greatest _ever_ created by mankind! You can't betray our secret…we're saving people-"

"Saving." Sherry spat at the body, and then looked up at her with eyes of malice, "You're right about one thing _Doctor _LeDour.  Only a crazy person could survive here-you're fuckin' deluded."

Annette wheeled back, slapped.

            "Get me the fuck out of here, kill me, whatever." Sherry stood slowly, "I don't care anymore.  I just want out.  I want it to end, how could a world exist like this? Chief Irons was a good man-"

"A perverted one." Wesker snorted.  He moved past the two women and pushed out the door into the dining room.

"ANNETTE!"

            "We can…talk about this later." Annette put a hand on Sherry's shoulder, "Please-give these things a chance…"

Sherry pushed her off.

"Wesker what-"

Irene sat cross-legged on the table.

"Oh good." Her voice was soft, "You've arrived."

            Out of the corner of her eye, Annette saw William pushed into a corner, head bent against his chest.  

"LeDour? You came as well." Irene got off the table, "Excellent.  Most excellent."

            Despite the sunlight, the room was filled with an air of gloom and evil.  Sherry was staring at Irene oddly, as if she had recognized her from a second life.

"Irene…what-the-what is this?" Wesker glanced at Birkin, "What's the matter with William?"

"He's infected.  Fool took his helmet off.  I've been keeping him safe Albert."  Irene slid away from him when he tried to touch her, "One of the zombies nearly got him-but I'd hazard that it was what happened in the morgue that caused this particular strain."

Wesker nodded dumbly, "Come on, we've got to call white umbrella-get a clean up crew-round up the survivors-"

            "The survivors are outside."

"Good." Relief permeated his voice, "Excellent.  Irene-I'm sorry you had to go through all of this-but the fact that you managed to rescue Birkin-and survive is amazing."  He put his arms around her and the room brightened, "I love you."

Irene smiled softly.

"I love you too."

            "Now, untie Birkin and I'll give him some Vaccine and-"

Irene pushed out of his arms gently, silently slipping the gun from where he'd kept it in his pants.

"I can't do that darling."

-----------------------------

AUTHOR'S NOTE: wow! Short somewhat * kicks humorous disclaimer * enjoy muchly.  Chapter sixteen forthcoming shortly.  


	16. Chapter 16

Ah! At last we come to Chapter Sixteen! I think this story will be rounded off at a nice even twenty don't you? Plus an epilogue? Anyway-this is a major labor of love, thanks to all reviewers- critiques-and everybody who might have read it, and decided not to review * twitch *

--------------------------  
I'm going under  
drowning in you  
I'm falling forever  
I've got to break through  
I'm going under  
  
blurring and stirring the truth and the lies  
so I don't know what's real and what's not  
always confusing the thoughts in my head  
so I can't trust myself anymore  
I'm dying again  
-Evanescence "Going Under"   
 -----------------------------

Spencer mansion-

"I think not."

            Wesker frowned, "Are you trying to be playful? Now's not the time.  Give me the gun and go down and get Birkin-"

"I'm tired of taking orders from you." Slowly Irene slid the gun beneath his chin, "Although I do love it-more ways then one."

"Irene this is madness!" Annette cried, "What the hell are you doing? If you think you're being funny it's not! If the Virus gets out of the mansion-"

            "That's what my father said.  "Should the Virus manage an egress, it will do more then anyone predicted.  That fool Marcus, his two pups-all of them have no comprehension of the possibilities that Progenitor holds."

The words were spoken in a self-satisfied tone, full of terrible knowledge.

            "Irene-what are you talking about?"

"Nobody guessed.  Nobody _knew_ my love, and that's what makes it so sweet." Irene pointed Wesker's gun at his face now, "Give me all your weapons, on the floor.  Then go stand against the window-hands on the glass."

"Irene what is this? What are you talking about?" Annette tried to move foreward, but paused when the gun turned in her direction."

            "What? The scientist doesn't guess? She doesn't know? How odd.  She discovered the second little gift I left.  What a pity Annette, I thought that you, a woman might have understood-"

"You-you're responsible for all of this!" Irene turned the gun back on Wesker in a whirl.

            "Correct! To avenge my father-who gave his life for this company that the two-or should I say the _three_ of you are so intent on profiting from." Irene stared out the window, "Undoubtedly, task forces from the San Diego Branch, the Los Angeles Branch, the New York Branch, and others are assembling.  A veritable army from the greatest research faculties in the world-all because of me."

"How-why-" Wesker was flustered.  There was no word of this.  Who the hell was her father? 

            Irene looked sad; "My father gave his life for this company.  He never spent a single moment with me, with my mother." She continued, heedless of tears that were pouring down her cheeks, "He told us that he loved us, in the pretty mansion prison that he put us in.  But my mother couldn't survive." She looked at Wesker sadly, "She needed warmth-just as I do."

"If you're trying to pin this on something _I_ did…" Wesker's voice was higher then normal.  My God…he's afraid… Annette froze against the wall.  Birkin thrashed tied to his chair-but remained silent.

"You? No.  You, in the grand tradition are inhuman, just as my father-Dr. Marcus, and Lord Ashford all were." Irene's eyes narrowed, "My father was a just man, a religious one.  He taught me to pray to god for forgiveness, and he taught me the sins."  The look in her eyes spoke madness to all concerned, "Then he found a new god, and a new religion."

"You Annette." Annette jumped as Irene once again pointed the weapon at her, "You realize what I'm talking about?  These men, who you give your heart to-these gentlemen, simply think in thoughts of carnal pleasure!  They don't care, for you-for your thoughts, they only care about their GOD-DAMMNED WORK!"

"All the weapons." Irene pointed the gun back at Wesker, "Now darling, quickly.  I want you to untie William then, if he's still human."

Wesker swallowed and began removing his weapons.  Kill her. Annette thought, Take her head off.  Come on! Where's the charm! Where's the-the-killer instinct-

            Wesker looked at his wife solemnly, "I could help you Irene.  Please don't do this.  It's death for you."

"Death is no less then I deserve." Irene laughed loudly, "But…I thank you."

Why isn't he killing her? 

" You…Dr. LeDour…go untie lover boy." Irene gestured with her weapon.  And you-Mrs. Medical Examiner-"

Irene had seen the medical examiner go for her weapon when she threatened Annette. The woman looked tired and bedraggled-haggard from her run through the mansion to their current location-

            "DIE BITCH!" Sherry had her own weapon pointed at Irene, "THIS IS FOR-"

Thunder in the Desert once again.

--------------------

Sherry fell back.

This is death? 

Michael's arms were around her.  Her last thoughts were of how unfair the world was in the end.

Goodbye. 

--------------------

Annette watched Sherry fall and let out a choked sob.

She never asked for this, any of this.  Wesker-why don't you take Irene out?  Why is he staring at her with such…sadness? 

            Wesker stared again at his wife, "Irene please…we can leave-leave this place-just put the gun down." 

"No." Irene waggled it at him, "Against the window lover.  And you-" she pointed the weapon again at Annette, "Go untie William."

Annette took a cautious step foreward.

            William had been pushed against one wall, tied to an old oak chair, his head hung low, and his skin deathly pale. 

"William?" Annette whispered, "Can you hear me?"

William raised his head feebly.  His eyes were slowly filling with dark red.

"A-Ann-Annette?"

Annette nodded, "I need to untie you."

"Quickly please.  William feel free to take a bit of her if you wish." Annette stared back at her and looked into his face.

            "Annette-I'm sick-infected-stay away-" his eyes were rolled back into his head, his face pasty and far more pallid then normal.

"No way." Annette said softly.  She reached her arms around his waist; "I've got to get you out of here."

William laughed weakly, "Irene…insane…Spencer's daughter…"

"Hush…" Annette raised a hand to his face, "Don't worry about that now William-please-save your strength-"

            "Annette, I'm-" he coughed, "Sorry.  I'm sorry I didn't pay any attention to you-I'm sorry I took you for granted-I-" he fell into a fit of coughing And Annette took him her arms.

"Shush…I'm the one who should be sorry."  Wesker and Irene were forgotten, "I don't know what I want." She smiled, or tried to, it was hard to tell, "And look at me! Sherry's dead, so many people dead-all people we worked with-and now-now this-"

Meanwhile, Irene watched them with simpering eyes.

            "Isn't love absolutely grand?" she raised the gun in a mock salute to her husband, "Ours of course went a bit astray-but I want you to know that I do care about you." 

"Then put down the gun and give yourself up." Wesker said from the window.  He stood staring outward into the sunlight, over hills and valleys and the world around them, "Please Irene-"

"I can't-can't do that." Irene stammered, "My father-he died.  Died at the hands of researchers.  This has to end-Umbrella has to end.  They took him from me." Wesker turned slightly, just enough to see her hand clench at her side, "My own father!"

"Irene…who was your father?"

Irene paused for a moment, "You'll be thankful." She said quietly, "Ever so thankful.  The man you've been looking for-the hidden piece of the puzzle.  Willy-FUCKING-Wonka who's never been seen in his own fucking factory."

"Spencer?" Wesker frowned, "But-nobody-he's not dear he's not-" Wesker's fingers closed on the glass and opened again.

            "You little fool." Irene's voice was cold, "You don't think that I'd know the way Umbrella works? I've been living with _them_ and _their _plans for the past TWENTY ONE years!" Irene cried.  In a move of depredation she ran close and pressed the gun to the back of Wesker's neck, giggling hysterically.

Annette looked up from where she was untying William.

She's lost it. At last the ropes gave way and William fell into her arms.

"William!"

            He collapsed across her.  His body was unusually light, feverish.  Annette put a hand to his forehead and winced.  The cold tears running down her face were a brutal shock.

"You really love him Dr. LeDour." 

            Irene was standing over her.

Annette peered upward into the face of the woman who she'd thought of as slightly insane, cool, calm, poised.  Her long hair flowing down her back.  The gun dropped in her hand.

"You hurt him so badly.  He told me, came to me." Irene said.  Annette put a hand on William's chest protectively, and wondered if the female Wesker hadn't given comfort to the unknowing boy in his hour of need, "He could always talk to me."

Annette said nothing.  She couldn't say anything-somehow all of this was tied into what they'd been dealing with…

"Turn around."

            Irene turned around slowly. 

Albert Wesker raised the rifle higher, planting it directly between his wife's eyes.  He watched for signs of reaction, begging for mercy (That he was all too willing to give) or telling him to go to hell (That he was more then willing to do) or at least apologizing for her crimes…

There is nothing so truly frightening as a just man. And he was a just man.  Unnecessary death was a problem.  He did not kill people simply because he could…did he?

"Do it." Irene's voice was soft.

            On the floor, Annette was scrambling for something that Irene had carelessly left under the table.  As a rule, Umbrella carried medical supplies everywhere in the mansion (A fact Annette used to be greatly suspect of) She finally managed to grasp the thin handle beneath the table and drag it towards her.

William was in a world of dreams.

"Ann-Annette-"

Annette's face peered over him.  No! It wasn't her, it was a twelve-year-old girl.

William was confused, "Who are you?"

            "Just relax darling." The girl picked up the green sprig of herb (Herbs, holy fucking Christ its those damn herbs) he had had a low opinion of those things since he had first come to Raccoon.  It made no sense whatsoever that those stupid herbs could possibly stop something as grand, as marvelous as…

The Virus? What Virus? 

            "Can you eat this?" the face was swimming out of focus.  It was getting harder to think now, face was bothering, just wanted to sleep.  Why couldn't it leave him alone?

"I think so." 

Annette whimpered as the garbled words came out of his mouth as she force-fed him the green herbs.  The scene above her didn't seem to be playing out very well-

"Do it." Irene said again, "Put me to rest."

            Wesker's hand shook, "No.  You'll go to trail, Umbrella-they'll kill you anyway-"

"That's why I want you to do it."

Wesker grasped at straws, his mind trying to work out a way to save the woman that he loved, "Irene, who was your father? If he was Spencer that should grant you some clemency-"

"No." Irene laughed harshly, "No! Not Spencer's daughter.  Nobody knew that he had a family; he was the recluse, always showing up in the lab earlier then everybody else, conducting experiments without anyone overseeing him, a bit-" she cast her eyes over William, "Like our little friend here-"

"William's not like that." Wesker said automatically.  Forgetting conveniently the hours he'd spent _killing _innocent people that the damn laboratory manager had provided-

And…the woman…

He shook his head, "Irene, its morning now.  Someone will have gotten to town, someone will have let umbrella know-you're finished-put down the gun and run away with me." Yes! They could escape Umbrella, Wesker knew how to, there was his other work-the work that he'd kept secret with the HCF-

"Dearest." Irene's eyes grew big and round and sad, "It wouldn't work.  I've become consumed."

"No." Wesker's desperation was showing now, "NO! Irene, you can't-"

Irene stepped out of reach of his rifle.  Annette was holding William's head now, rocking back and forth.  The other medical examiner's body was out of reach-

"Irene-please-" Wesker choked.

With the tenderness of a mother, Irene gently placed the cold barrel against Annette's head.

"There was something I wanted to tell you Albert." Irene looked at him and smiled cheerfully, "But I don't think I will now.  I don't want you to hurt yourself." 

She choked the weapon.

            "Irene-" Wesker raised the rifle, "Please."

Her reflexes were quicker then he'd ever seen as she raised the weapon and shot herself through the throat.

----------------

Raccoon City

"Onward came the meteors!"

-Calvin and Hobbes.

Rose Rita gave the basketball a few tentative bounces.

            "Toss it already!" David cried, "While we're young!" other children took up the cry loudly.  It was the weekly basketball game in the elementary school-which had the unfortunate problem of being five miles out of town.

Rose gripped the ball tightly and glanced toward Marie, who was filing her nails-or at least trying to.

The dim hills in the distance rumbled.

"What the-"

Rose dropped the ball and stared off at them.

            David growled and stomped over.  The other children had already begun to complain, their high voices rising in pitch as David-team captain and acknowledged leader, grabbed rose by the shoulder.

"What the hell is the matter with you?" he was 12, an old hand at adult expressions of outrage, "we're in the middle of a game here and you're staring off at the horizon-what's the deal?"

Rose pointed.

A large, unnaturally large, black van was making its way towards them.

            "Holy-"

The beast roared as it stopped a few feet away from the fence and turned abruptly.  The expression of driver and passenger mirrored that of the children outside for a moment, as the van sped on its way. 

Umbrella Logo emblazoned firmly on its side.

"Goddamn reckless drivers." David muttered, "Just who do they think they are?" 

-----------------

Spencer Mansion

Wesker didn't move.

The rifle dropped from his hand as he stared at his wife's dead body, immobilized by the thick stream of blood and ruined flesh that poured from the gaping hole.

If she'd shot Annette-then-then 

"Wesker…Albert I'm so-so-"

Wesker fell to his knees.

            Below them, the scientists and commandos who survived were crying out thanks as the large army of Umbrella employees and personnel from New York and Los Angeles were enveloping the mansion like a swarm of locus.  He heard them, like hearing a recording of a familiar song far off.

He stared at Irene.

Why? It wasn't fair.  He'd had happiness, someone to distract him from what he did for a living.  Irene had been a bit of a cold fish, but she'd welcomed him and accepted him, even after he'd slept with another woman.  He was more then a wife, she had been the mother figure he'd never really had. 

"Irene…"

The blood pooling around Irene grew darker.  Her face was peaceful, despite the violent manner of her death; her eyes open wide and her mouth exhaling. 

Birkin twitched, leaned over and hurled.  Annette held him tighter and looked to Wesker for direction.  They had discovered the perpetrator of the crimes, the unthinkable crimes-but now?

"Wesker?"

Albert Wesker could not hear.  He was on his knees, staring at his wife's body.

"Albert? Mr. Wesker?"

The door exploded.

            It literally blew off its hinges.  Annette shrieked as white suited personnel flooded the room and raised their guns threateningly.  Voices shouted back and forth as the three inhabitants were surrounded in an instant by Umbrella Countermeasure and Rescue Team members.

The Leader waved his weapon between the three of them, Where's Doctor Birkin? Who's in charge here? 

            "You have to go get help!" Annette cried, "Dr. Birkin-he's here-he's hurt-"

Sir! 

The leader turned away for a moment as another creature in white appeared beside him.

The townspeople are getting restless! They're asking for an Umbrella Representative to handle the case! 

Let the PR departments handle it, have you found our little mole? 

            Albert Wesker looked up at him with dead fish eyes, "She's dead." He said quietly, "Dr. Woods is dead."

Jesus! 

            Annette raised a hand tentatively to William's face.  His eyes were closed tightly, but his body twisted under her touch.

I got so attached Grandma Cass. Annette thought dully, So attached to everything, and now this.  What is this? Why am I doing this? 

She was tired.

            Ma'am? Just hold on ma'am-everything will be all right. 

What? What's going on? William? Albert? Sherry? In a last act of desperation she called for the medical examiner she'd known so briefly, Grandma Cass? Kate? Someone? Anyone-please! 

The world faded to black around her.

------------------------------------

-Chicago-

A typical boardroom.

            The twelve board members filed in one after another.  The chief, chairman and all around supreme boss, sat at the very head and folded his hands beneath his chin.

"What is being done," His voice was slimy, "To correct the situation?"

"We've managed to contain the situation with the bodies." An elderly man said, "Un total, two hundred and thirty three bodies have been discovered by our scouts." He held up a manila folder and flipped it open with an old hand, "Their personal affects have been removed and taken to a secure location along with the corpses themselves."

"Customs?"

"Customs let us through." Another man said.  His voice was tinged with an English accent; "Same bloody price as always, not including the four FBI agents who we had to bribe when the came across the package on the plane-and the Sky marshal." 

Recent Terrorist attacks, particularly the attack on the Israeli Olympic team, had made people suspicious in general of flying. 

"What about personnel?"

            "I handled that." A young black woman raised a hand and ignored the swiveling eyes that suddenly stared at her, "Total, we lost two city employees-the medical examiner who was married to the ITS specialist for Arklay, and the chief of the fire department."

"Chief of the Fucking _Fire _Department? How is he on our payroll?"

            "It just says he is." The black woman shrugged, "How the hell am I supposed to know what Wesker's thinking over there?"

"Enough." The chairman said, "Do we have any idea who's behind this attack?"

            "Irene Spencer."

"What?" The black woman balked, "I thought Spencer was a loner!"

"So did the rest of us." The English man said, "Apparently the man found some time to get himself a wife and his get-is responsible for this entire mess."

            "Fuck." A man towards the end of the table away from the chairman tilted his cowboy hat away from his face, "Spencer had a _kid_?"

"Even worse, Wesker married her." The black woman flipped quickly through another couple of files, "Irene Wesker." 

"Current Intelligence maintains that she was pregnant." The black woman's eyes widened in surprise, "We might want to have personnel health send him a guidance councilor."

            "Loosing a wife would drive you crazy." Cowboy hat said, "Loosing a kid would be worse."

"What about the rest of our personnel?" a man in a lab coat with harried hair spoke quietly, "Dr. Birkin and the rest of them?"

            "Intelligence estimates that we have a 78% loss of personnel, scientific and combat." 

The table echoed with disbelief.

"What about the international situation?" the Englishman said, "Harry?"

            "Company HQ is demanding to know what the fuck is going on." Harry was a larger man with a great red head, "Paris doesn't give a shit-those people scare me-"

"We are not here for your opinion." The chairman said quietly, "Who came to Arklay's aid?"

            "Frank Marston at the LA branch, and Celia Diego sent air-transport personnel from New York." Harry said, reading over his files, "Frank believes that he can supply Arklay with maybe a third of the personnel we've lost.  Celia can't spare anybody-they're working on Cerberus development and our "front" work.  Looks like we're going to have to push up the latest class of students-maybe pick a few from the University-"

"Which University-"

"Med Schools-"

"Harvard-"

The chairman at the table let them debate while he analyzed the real issue.  They had failed.  There had been an outbreak that must not be allowed to occur again under any circumstances.  Raccoon was apparently a nest of adders-

He'd have to keep a closer eye on them.   

--------------------------

There's Chapter Sixteen! I think I nixed the idea of doing trilogy (For reasons that will become apparent in the next four chapters) and just decided to go with a sequel.   There is ways that this can fit in with everything else that's going on in the RE Universe-just wait and see…

Note: The UCRT is the predecessor to the UBCS. 


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17! Things are getting deeper and darker yes? I hope you all are enjoying it.  I promise that it will fit in with the continuum, and I mean it.  You'd be amazed at what a good and careful corporation can come up with…

To him that you tell your secret you resign your liberty. 

**Anonymous, Proverb**

------------------------

INVESTIGATIVE REPORT

RE: Arklay Mansion/Executive Training Center (ETC)

Chief investigator: Robert Combs. 

HQ Representative: Helmut Verräter 

Onsite teams: UCRT.  UBCS (Los Angeles Team) 

March 17, 1986

Arrived on site to find representative from Company HQ as per protocol.  Dispatched survivors to Los Angeles Branch to wait clean up and upon wishes of the rep. 

            According to witnesses and recent civilian testimony the Arklay region of these mountains has been notorious for various disappearances.  Because enough of these disappearances were related to animal attacks, the disappearances were chocked up by Chief of police Irons as animal attacks.

Honest Mistake.

            Upon arrival it was deduced that (one) Irene Spencer Wesker, wife of Senior Researcher Albert Wesker-was responsible for the massive amounts of deaths by unlocking the closed ETC.  Immediately ETC was quarantined and contained by the UCRT-but further investigation will have to be conducted in relation to re-opening the faculty or completely containing the specimens inside-

The following civilian losses were sustained:

Sherry Delaney: Dead from gunshot wound by Spencer.  Originally involved on behalf of the "Hannibal" Murders.

Michael Redfield: Infected with progenitor.  Body will be returned to family after incriminating evidence and cavity "sweep" is conducted. 

Four Civilian deaths by roving creatures will be quarantined in Los Angeles Faculty until further investigation can be done, and for research purposes.

The Faculty Head: (A.Wesker) and his assistant head (W. Birkin) were transported to the Los Angeles faculty pending evaluation.  They, along with companion (A. LeDour MD) are being held for counseling and physiatrist review. 

            (I Spencer.) Key was confiscated from her dead body, her body transported to undisclosed location as specified in her will.  Before transport, body was cremated at husband (A.Wesker) request.  

Investigators notes: This entire thing felt…wrong.  If something like this happened once, could it happen again?  I don't even want to think about it.  The personnel at Arklay are inconsolable, a sure bet.  Considering that they saw friends and colleagues of the past ten to twenty years either eaten or turned into vicious flesh-eating monsters…

I dunno.  They pay me to clean up things and report things.  I don't make judgments.  The situation can be rectified via few simple adjustments.  I can safely say that something like this will never happen again.

------------------------------

Los Angeles California 

One-Week Later-

Sunlight streamed through the hospital windows and danced lightly across patient and visitor, as if expecting the humans to move and play with it.

A large painting of sunflowers reflected the light back on the bed's occupant, a young man with lanky blond hair and a pasty complexion.  Next to him, a woman lay asleep in a stereotypical hospital chair.

The eyes fluttered.

William Birkin groaned and stared upward at the ceiling and tried to recognize his impressions.

What the… 

He tried to sit up and stifled a scream.  His muscles yelled back at him, urging him to lie back on the soft hospital bed.  He contented himself with turning his head, twisting sideways-

Annette? 

"Ann…Annette?" he coughed.  It hurt to speak.

Think carefully William.  This isn't Raccoon City General-this is something-someplace else.  Where are you?   He blinked at Annette and willed her to wake up.  She slept deeply.

"Annette?" 

Annette stirred and blinked her own eyes.  She raised a hand to rub them, and twisted away from him into the sunlight from the window.  He sighed and tried to recall the last thing that happened.

Being carried-by what? Who? 

There had been a lot of yelling.  He had recoiled into himself and tried to forget that he was human.  Dimly, he remembered Annette yelling, "No! No! Sedation! Sedation!" then there had been nothing but the sounds of his own breathing.

He coughed. 

            Annette remained motionless, but the door opened.  A young nurse peered in anxiously.  She took her thin arms out of his view and wheeled in a large cart with various pieces of equipment.  She was humming softly, until she saw that he was awake.

"Oh!" she gasped, "Dr. Birkin, you're awake earlier then expected-"

I've always been a fast healer. He thought wirily.

"Where-" he coughed again, disappointed by the fact that his arms did not seem to respond to his commands, "Where am I?"

            "Los Angeles "Our Lady of Mercy" Umbrella Hospital." The girl piped, "You've been asleep for about a week."

A week? 

"What-Happened?"

The girl looked confused, "What happened where?"

            William shook his head feebly, "What happened-me-to me?" it was difficult to speak, to articulate his desires.  That irked him, he had never been laid up in the hospital for more then a day, and even then he always preferred to treat himself.

"Oh! You-" The girl looked concerned and furrowed her brow, "You got infected by the virus-not T." The girl shook her head and stepped closer, as if confiding a great secret, "The one that the guy Marcus was developing.  Anyway, the higher up staff were _really _worried.  They thought you were going to die, but you survived.  And they said you were cured."

Annette stirred in the chair and frowned at the nurse, then stared at William in shock.

"You-You're-"

Awake? Yes… he nodded his head.  Annette had done something for him-now if only he could remember what it was…

"You can leave." Annette stood slowly, her face pained, "I can give him that medication."

"But-the doctor-Dr. Faber-" The girl squeaked shrilly, and whirled about on her heel to flee.

They were alone.

            Annette moved over to the medical table and began to work with tools, picking up some and selecting others.  She looked older then her twenty-four years.

"Annette? What happened?" Are you all right? 

"They shut down Arklay."

"WHAT?"

William groaned and rolled back onto the pillows.  Annette seemed amused, vaguely.  She sighed and filled a syringe with a clear green liquid that frightened him.

But the thought of being out of a job…

"Temporary." Annette sighed, "I need to give you this."

He frowned, "What is it?"

"Temporary antibiotic.  Just doing some system cleaning." She sighed, "Please William…"

            William nodded and ignored the sharp pinch as she injected the liquid into him.  He sighed, and then turned back to her.

"Tell me."

"There's nothing to tell." Annette walked back to her chair and sat down, "Irene is dead."

Who? 

Then he remembered Wesker's wife.

Irene, Irene did this.  Irene who told me jokes, Irene who said I was like a younger brother she never had… 

            "Why…why did Irene do it?" He was more relaxed now, and there was more power in his voice, "She owed everything to Wesker-"

"Apparently not.  She was the daughter of Lord Spencer."

Lord Spencer had a daughter? He _spawned?_ William stifled a cough, Of course he did, you knew it the moment that you read that letter. 

What was to be done?

"I was…really worried about you."

He blinked, "What?"

            "I was…really worried about you." Annette took his hand, "I haven't been sleeping the past few days, I wanted-I needed to talk to you, to give you a chance to understand me a little bit-"

He tried to respond, but was blocked due to a fit of coughing.  He leaned back into the pillow and stared into Annette's eyes with a mixture of relief and confusion.

"I'll talk to you later." Annette said finally.  She lay the instruments down on the table, "When I've spoken to your doctors." 

"Wes-" he coughed again, "Wesker.  Where is he?"

Annette sighed and looked down at her feet, "I don't know."

Is she still affected by that? The petty love triangle seemed a distant memory now, Annette… 

            She really was beautiful.  Her body was slim, and somehow the grief gave her a haunted, venerable look-like some statue of a goddess that had seen better centuries.  He wanted to hold her and stop her feeling sad.

Is that really what I want? Or do I want to get back to work? 

"I'll be back soon." Annette lay a hand on his, "I promise."

---------------------------

Annette walked out into the hallway and sighed.

            It had been a week since the frightened translation from Arklay to this place.  William had been unconscious for most of the trip.  She'd walked the halls of the Los Angeles faculty like a ghost that interacted with people.  

The Los Angeles branch was mostly used for body storage.  Annette had walked for a while with one of the technicians, a smiling woman with long brown hair who had been more then willing to explain the finer aspects of their job as the world's largest morgue.

None of it mattered.

            She wasn't even sure that her work mattered anymore.  She'd stopped walking about and remained by William's bedside, watching them give him anti-bodies and anti-biotics.  There wasn't a cure for progenitor, it was still in development as a virus when Marcus was killed-so they were walking on wires.  Every day was a magical adventure into the realm of impossibility and "Will-This-work" ideology.  

It was tearing her apart.

But now, things finally seemed to be working.

            Annette took a few cautious steps past a door marked staff and paused as she listened.

"There's no way-"

            "Doctor…please." The man's voice was calm, but poised-used to being in charge, "Continue with what you were saying."

Annette folded herself against the wall and peered through the crack in the door.

"As I was saying." The doctor was a weasel man with a pinched nose and horn-rimmed glasses, "The Anti-biotics seem to be making progress, however-there's no guarantee in the long run."

"What are you saying?"

There was something very familiar in that voice-but she couldn't place it.

"I'm _saying_ that even though Dr. Birkin may be technically cured-he could suffer a relapse at any time.  Or it might show itself in other ways-I've always said that you scientists down there all the time working with the T-virus-"

"Are you making some kind of joke about my profession?"

"No-yes-I wish I was." There was a soft sigh, "You all have a certain…reckless streak.  All it may do in Dr. Birkin's case-is make it more pronounced.  We'll continue doing all that we can-but constant physiatrist evaluation will be needed.  Personally, I think it drives you all crazy."

"I see…that's disappointing."

"Yeah? Go tell _him _that."

-----------------------

In the Morgue-

"I didn't think to see you here."

"I didn't think to _be_ here.  Everything's in an uproar-and you're really pushing ahead with this?"

The man's voice was soft, he paused before answering.  "I have to."

"I get it." The woman's voice was cocky, " You have gone soft, wanting to move to a new place, a new position in Umbrella-what's really up with it?"

"Let's just say that I've come to my senses." His voice sounded matter of fact now, "Umbrella not only kills-it destroys _lives."_

"You were a part of it."

"And I don't want to do it anymore." The man slammed a hand down on the table, staring down his contact from behind his glasses, "Do _you _get it?"

            The woman smiled, " I think that I do Mr. Wesker."

She dropped the manila folders nonchalantly on the floor and sauntered away back up the stairs and out into the living.  Albert Wesker collected the files quickly, taking careful note of the signature "A Wong." On the file tab.

--------------

W. Birkin's Hospital room.

William sighed and continued telling the nurse about his adventures while she clucked sympathetically. 

Old Bat the woman wasn't even listening to him anymore; she focused intently on her work, taking blood and doing the basic medical tests.  It was at least two hours since Annette had left, and he desperately wanted her to return.

"If you love this woman so much," (Another difficulty.  Like so many others in California, this nurse had a horrible accent) "Then you must make her your bride yes? Does she return your affections?"

"That's just it." William said, "I have no idea."

"Then you must find out yes?"

Yes. William let sleep take him again, I must find out 

-------------------------

Author's Note: Kind of short, nothing really happened (Sorry about that) I wanted to kind of provide some insight.  Chapter eighteen commeth. 


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18! Huzzah and hooray! Today's one of those days that comes once in a blue moon-A day off!  And so, I write.   Thank you to all pre-readers (Me) reviewers (All of you) and critiques and such.

On wif the show!

Hamster: *** **digs out review on chapter sixteen* hrm…an interesting notion that…all I'll say is maybe ;)

Disclaimer: I own none of this, save for the plotline and the sandwiches-along with some of the NPCs-but hey! They're NPCS and therefore-they are EXPENDABLE!

NPCs-We're WHAT?

Author: Expendable.  Ask anybody at Fanfiction.net.  All NPCs, from all stories are expendable.  We can't kill off the actual characters unless they die in the story.

NPCs- we'll form a union! 

Author: You have a Union.  Locale 7345.  And it's a damn good union.

Anyway-Without further gilding the…um…story or humor-here's chapter eighteen

-------------------

"If you love somebody, let them go.  If they return, they were always yours.  If they don't, they never were."

-Anon.

----------------------------

Los Angeles 

1986

The horrors of the eighties were exemplified here.

Big hair, loud patterns, bright colors were _everywhere._  Annette clenched her teeth and gripped the steering wheel of the car with a vengeance.  She turned on the radio, hoping to content this ever-growing feeling of rage with a little music.

I saw your eyes,  
and you made me smile;  
for a little while  
I was falling in love

The only other thing in the universe I couldn't stomach any more then the decade. Annette thought as she made another turn and headed toward the hospital, Love.   Love was what (She thought) made her drive out in the early morning traffic to gather nourishment.  Love was all you were supposed to need, love was-

Overrated.

I saw your eyes,  
and you touched my mind.  
Although it took a while,  
I was falling in love.

She sighed and glanced to the back seat where she'd safely stored the coffee and donuts.  It was a surprise, a way to bring William back to the world of the living after his short sabbatical.  She didn't even know if he'd like donuts, bacteria Birkin wasn't the type to eat normal human food.  He had incredible eyes too, big blue eyes-like marbles.

I saw your eyes

And you made me cry

And for a little while

I was falling in love.

The car swerved to the side amidst the loud blaring honks and cries of outrage of the Los Angeles side streets.  Annette kicked the well of the car and growled at her own stupidity.  Everything-in some small way-was her fault.  The song wasn't really about her-it was about _him._

"Goddamnit…"

"Miss! Are you alright?" The woo of the siren drowned out all thoughts of self-pity as one of the Californian "Chippies" appeared in her rear-view mirror. 

"Ma'am-what the hell were you doing?" the man came around the driver's side and leaned heavily on the window rim.  Inside, the woman (Aforementioned subject of chase) was staring at her hands.

"I have to get back to work." She said, her voice a monotone, "I was getting breakfast for my boyfriend and I have to get back to work."  She was kind of pretty-but pallid.  Her face was the mask of grief at any opera/play/entertainment complex.

"Listen, you were hittin' eight-three, _then _you pulled out into a spin.  You're driving far more recklessly then any teenager-where do you work?"

"Umbrella Corporation."

            If it were humanely possible for the California Highway Patrol officer to sweatdrop then he would have.  Instead the man just nodded briskly, leaned down lower into the window, and stared the woman directly in the eye.

"I'm going to let you off with a warning." She probably has a body or something in the back of the car. "Next time, go carefully hm? We can't always let you guys off the hook."

He had learned, ever since pulling over an ambulance and having his pension revoked-oh yes.

Umbrella was mighty indeed.

--------------------------

Umbrella-Los Angeles Faculty.

William Birkin's Room-

            The normally cheerful atmosphere was amplified by the presence of one Franklin Marston, head of the Los Angeles Faculty.  A cheerful man, even William in his stoic refusal to treat anybody with decency until he was allowed to return to work, found himself brightened by the man's presence.

"And then I said, "Chicken? I thought you said Lick Him!" William chuckled amiably, and Marston snorted back loud laughter, "ah, yeah-good times."

            "Good times indeed."

"Dr. Birkin, I have to be honest with you." Marston said, "When I first heard about you-and keep in mind I've been working for Umbrella a long time-well, I pictured something kind of different-"

            "I'm all ears."

"You're funny." Marston grinned, "But I honestly pictured someone more like Marcus.  He'd been working for Umbrella since the beginning-way back when I was just a graduate student."

            Birkin's smile turned sour, "I'm not what you expected?"

"Hell no! I mean-you're normal!" Marston smiled and stood, stretching.  Despite his overwhelming cheerful nature, he was a very average person.  Marston slid over to the blinds and glanced back at him.

"Want me to open these? Give you a nice view of the city outside…"

"No thank you." Birkin said curtly, "Have you perchance seen some trace of Dr. LeDour?"

            Marston studied him quizzically, "Dr. LeDour…oh! Yeah." Marston smiled, "Yeah, she asked about a good place to get coffee and donuts, so I told her to head out to Jack's Donut shop."

            "Did she say when she'd be back?"

Marston scratched his head, "Soon I think.  You were sleeping' when she asked and I took it upon myself to meet the great "Bacteria Birkin."

Bacteria Birkin…God! 

            "Thank you." William sighed, "Frank…Mr. Marston-"

"Call me Frank." Marston smiled again cheerfully, "Yes William?"

"Dr. Birkin." 

"Fine, Dr. Birkin?" 

            William swallowed, "I'm sorry, I said that out of habit."

Marston grinned and walked over pulling up the shutters.  The room flooded with pure California sunshine, making it twice as bright as before.

"Go ahead and speak your mind doc!"

            William swallowed again, "I'm about to make a big step Frank…and I need your help with something…"

-------------------

Umbrella Boardroom-

New York, New York.

The chairman of the New York Umbrella Faculty was facing a problem. 

            It was a rather large problem, surrounding senior researcher William Birkin, Senior Researcher Albert Wesker, and the man who stood at the very end of the table smiling like a cat with a canary in it's mouth.

"-Therefore, I'd like to take this opportunity to transfer Dr. Wesker." The man at the end of the table continued, "We have work that he could do in the Paris Laboratory-one of them-must be-"

"Absolutely not." The Head of American Personnel said, "Albert Wesker is an important, and needed man."

The man at the end of the table shook his head, "He's shown singularly terrible judgment.  He must be transferred immediately into Umbrella Europe's custody."

            "There's still the matter _of _the location of Lord Spencer." One of the other board members said slowly, "According to intelligence, his _daughter _believed that he was dead."

The man smiled, "That is not an issue that is under discussion." 

"It is if we're going to send one of _our _top employees over to Umbrella Europe." Said another board member "Is there any truth to Intelligence's information?"

            The man sighed, "There is an indecorum of truth, but to answer your question Lord Spencer has given me the following information, to pass on to you." Down at his end, he handed a large folder to one of the board members, "Proof that his daughter was irrefutably insane."

"Guess we all need to take time to hug our kids." One man jested as he passed the file on, "Apparently her father never spent any time with her?"

            "A matter of opinion.  May we return to the matter at hand?"

"The answer is no." The chairman said firmly, "No.  We can provide you with a hundred raw scientists and commandos-but we're not giving over any of our key personnel.  May I remind you that we're still trying to develop a working relationship with the community? That way our activities will-"

"There's no need to explain your response to the crisis in Arklay Mr. Weismann." The man smiled, oily and serpentine, "Lord Spencer has great faith that the United States branch will take care of the birthplace of the T-Virus."

Uneasy smiles and nods abounded across the table.  The Americans liked the taste of being the only country in the world to possess this weapon in a supposedly military capability, but there was still the slightest tinge of mistrust for their European counterparts.

"Very good." The chairman said, "Is that all you wanted to discuss today?"

"Of course not." The European Representative bowed, "I am pleased to serve.  No doubt the Ashford family, along with the Spencer family, would thank you all for the time and effort you have put into this little matter today."

More nervous smiles and glances, the cat was playing far above their level today.

            Once he had gone, the vice president of the USA branch of Umbrella Pharmaceuticals incorporated stared across the table at his boss nervously.

"Shouldn't we have taken him up on his offer sir?"

            "Not if we want to keep our places here." One of the other board members said, "The Arklay lab is in _our _territory and company bi-laws state that each territory is to be governed by the board of directors for that branch."

"Does that also apply for personnel?"

            "If someone from the United States should desire to apply for an oversees position." The president said calmly, "They no longer are our responsibility-even as citizens."

"So what about Albert Wesker?"

            The President turned and studied the vice president for a minute.  Joel Alleman was a young man, but getting older.  There was a chance he might be sitting in his chair by the end of the year-a slim one.

"Think carefully Joel.  If you had a royal flush when you were playing poker-would you want to let anybody know about it?"

            Joel blinked, "Pardon?"

The president sighed.  Outside, the late evening of New York was settling, across the street the dim shapes of a film crew were packing it in for the evening.

            "Birkin and Wesker are our wild cards." The President explained, "_Lord _Spencer placed them here in the United States because they were young and United States citizens. The government insisted on it."

Joel frowned.  He remembered Birkin as a boy who liked to suck up to Dr. Marcus and the other higher staffers, but also as a bit of a queer.  Thinking of him as a card that could win in poker was too much of a stretch. 

"What do we do if we're holding all the cards?"

            "We don't show-anyone our hand?" the head of personnel asked.

"Exactly.  The United States is holding all the cards, and it's best if we kept it that way."

-----------------------------

Watching me wanting me  
I can feel you pull me down  
fearing you loving you  
I won't let you pull me down

-Evanescence "Haunted" 

William Birkin's Room-

Annette pushed open the door gingerly, careful to keep from spilling the coffee and donuts that she had procured.   Strangely enough, the room was empty.

Wait…what? 

            William was still bedridden when she'd left.  Had they moved him? Or worse…

When an Umbrella employee died, some people had the option of stipulating that their bodies be left to science when they were gone.

Oh god… 

That was something William was very likely to have done.

That can't be possible.  He ISN'T dead. 

Don't you feel like the little whore now… 

            Annette pushed Grandma Cass's voice out of her mind.  The man she loved was dead-or-there had to be another explanation-

"-Damn shame about Dr. Birkin-"

"Totally.  The poor guy!"

"-Wonder who that woman was-"

Annette dropped the donuts and coffee into a steaming pile of dough and burning hot liquid across the floor.  She collapsed to her knees and felt sick.

He's dead. 

And Annette LeDour began to cry.

--------------------

Author's note: Aww shoot! William's dead!  But we all know that he's not! However, Annette doesn't-serves her right for being a right whore! Anyway, Chapter Nineteen coming, and twenty, then the epilogue!  Sadly, I think I'll have to nix the trilogy idea, but I will be writing a sequel…


	19. Chapter 19

Ah! Chapter Nineteen! Working is fun; it means that I can at least write stuff like this on my day off! 

Disclaimer: I own nothing you see here-absolutely nothing-not even my monkey *pats stuffed monkey comfortably * 

Btw- this chapter is MAJOR PG-13 for a bit of domestic violence.

---------

"Love takes off masks that we fear we cannot live without and know we cannot live within."   
-_James Baldwin_

_---------------_

Los Angeles-

1986

The bowels of the Umbrella Faculty

William flipped through a couple of the folders, "This is everything?"

            "Everything." Frank said quietly, "It's quiet awesome don't you think?"

William decided that he perpetually hated Californians and their use of common slang, adults and teenagers alike.

"You." He turned to Frank, "Really have something here." He tucked the files under one arm and winced.  Every part of him still hurt desperately, it had taken all of his energy to muster up the desire to head up the stairs and back to the world of the living.  When frank had accosted him in his hospital room, showing him plans to develop this particular…creation-William had been understandably skeptical. 

"I understand that it'll take a few years for the project to approve," Frank followed him up the stairs slowly, "But you really think it has a shot?"

William winced inwardly as he came to a particularly sharp step.

            "Absolutely." William said, If the technicalities can be worked out. He had to admit however that the idea was intriguing.  Frank had given it to him completely, saying, "I just want to see this thing developed" and William had taken it. 

He stopped before the top step and opened the folder again, admiring Frank's detailed sketches and body designs.

"Where did you get these?" he asked, as he flipped open to a second page, "They're copies-"

            "Honestly? They belonged to my cousin." Frank shook his head, "Kevin thinks there might actually be something to this "Video-Atari…crap" that's been going on." He put a hand on a railing that appeared from nowhere, "He designed it as a game character."

All William knew about video games were that they involved tiny little computer-generated _things_ shooting at other things.  Pointless, especially when children should be focusing on their studies.  This however…genius when put into the right hands. 

He tucked the file back under his arm and grimaced when he saw the door.  Although he was strong enough to walk about (Just barely, damn whatever anti-biotic he was on) his arms would still not cooperate when he required them to move.   The doctors insisted it would go away in time…

Time, he thought as Frank opened the door and smiled apologetically, Is something that I do not have. 

            People parted in the hallways.  The LA branch of Umbrella was used mainly for body disposal and waste disposal.  Very little actual research was going on, so seeing "Bacteria Birkin" known scourge and developer of many horrible things beneath the earth was a horrible revelation. Let them run! William thought gleefully, Let them all see, William's back on his feet! Takes more then a virus to slow him down! 

That was something that worried him.

            The doctors said that the virus was completely out within his system.  Progenitor was a weakling compared to the T-Virus, and the vaccine that they'd engineered (weak as it was) was enough to knock it out.

Supposedly.

There was a dangerous undercurrent beneath the sympathetic clucking and brave commiserations of his colleagues.  Even Wesker hadn't been any help; he'd been inconsolable since finding out about Irene…working all the time…

Am I alone in the world? 

He opened the door to his hospital room and was immediately wrapped in an embrace.

            "What-the-Hey-"

"William? Is it really you? I thought-I mean when I saw the bed gone-I"

"I wanted to go for a walk." William's eyes narrowed, "What are you doing here? Marston said you had gone out-"

He eyed the pile of donut and coffee that was congealing on the floor.

            "And apparently you came back-"

"I had a little accident." Annette laughed shrilly and collapsed into a chair, "I was really concerned for you when-I saw that-"

"I wasn't there."

Annette nodded quickly, like a child.

"Well, I'm back." 

"Good to know." She leaned back against the wall, "Good to fucking know."

            William sighed and sat on the bed casually.  Dressed in his hospital clothing-it was much more comfortable to sit and sort of lean then layback.  He stared at Annette, "I was talking to Dr. Marston.  I know Frank's kind of-not in our league-but he had something that I want you to take a look at." He reached for the file and stopped.

"What?" Annette blinked at him owlishly, "Go ahead and show me."

"No." 

Annette frowned, "Why? Is it top secret?" no hint of love or playfulness in her tone.  When things were top secret in Umbrella-they were for a reason.

Be Firm.  Work can wait; remember that it'll always be there for you.  People die, your work will live on.  Be Firm- 

"Annette…We need to discuss the love issue."

Annette backed off instinctively a few feet.

"The…Love issue?"

            "What I said back at Arklay doesn't have to be the end." He'd thought about this, lying down in his bed that evening-watching re-runs of some stupid cartoon, "I-Don't want it to be the end."

"Neither do I." Annette said quickly, "I mean-I-I guess with Wesker things just kind of happened." She tried a cocky grin, "Carnal instinct you know?"

            "We're Human." Birkin said coldly, "We're above carnal instinct."

"Right." Annette said, Definitely must take note of that. 

            "Anyway…Annette when I was sick…I just kept thinking.  I saw your face, your courage, everything about you-and I just wanted to survive." He did not look at her as he spoke, but his words rang with simple truth.  He was no longer the scientist, simply a man confronting a difficult problem in his life.

"What, thoughts of dead people lying on tables and viruses crawling about in petri-dishes don't do it for you?" Annette said sarcastically, " You don't feel the urge to "Soldier on" when you think about those damn dogs, howling and growling and sniffling?"

"That." Birkin said coldly, was unfair.

The air conditioning in the room went up a notch as Annette whirled about to face him.  The setting sun silhouetted her frame.

            "William, I just can't see myself being with you when I know you'll always have another mistress." The words came tumbling out of her then, "Your work, and your religion.  I see it, I want to be a part of it, but I can't just live on the knowledge that we'd be coming home to the same house that evening.  I can't think about that I mean what _if_," Annette paused, "What if we were to raise a family? Two kids? How would they like it if their parents came home, didn't spend any time with them-and go about their business as if they weren't there?"

"THAT-won't happen." We won't be having children. 

            "Are you so sure of that?" Annette's voice cracked, "William-I need some conformation that _I_ would have importance in your life as well." Please. She pleaded mentally, Give me that reassurance. 

"The only way I know how, by making you a part of my work, my life." Because my work is my life. Birkin kicked himself mentally, Damn my parents, Damn Umbrella, Damn the whole fuckin' human race. 

"That's not enough for Me." Is it? It could be, you're just as consumed as he is- 

            "Why do you have to be so difficult?" Birkin looked up confused, "Annette, I'm telling you the truth-by making you a part of my work, I'm making you a part of my life." He smiled then, "Isn't that enough?"

Without warning Annette drew back her fist and slammed it into the painting of the sunflowers.  She screamed then, drawing back her hand quickly and biting back furious tears, Grandma Cass always said that I was a bit of a flake that hurt people for the wrong reason. The painting dropped to the floor.

"Let me see that-"

"No!" Annette drew back and hissed, "You'll probably do something-"

            William took her hand in his gently, carefully turning it over to expose the palm.  He winced, and gingerly touched the large piece of glass that had embedded itself in her.

"You're the doctor." His voice was quiet, "What do you make of this?"

You touching me, you saying this things-you wanting me to be involved-nobody ever wanted me to be involved-to be a part of something until you- 

"I don't want to end up like _Irene_." 

He hit her. 

            Annette sprawled off the bed and rolled down to the floor-her head connecting with the linoleum making a sickening _crack. _

Gods! William jumped off the bed and moved to her side, holding her head in his lap.

"Annette." She groaned slightly and twisted in his arms.  Light draped across her face, shrouding her fine features in silk, "Annette god I'm sorry, I had no idea…" he hugged her head to his abdomen and ignored the tear sliding down his cheek, "Please Annette, I'm so sorry, I just-people always think that I'm like Marcus and it really hurts when they say things like that-"

She blinked at him, saying nothing.  He did not notice her sudden return to consciousness.

"And, when you said that-I just-I lost control.  Please Annette-you has to believe me! You just have to!"

" I believe you."

More things.  Uncontrollable things.  There's a chance of a relapse, this man-this boy… her maternal instinct took over and she reached up to stroke his cheek gently.

He's just like a child.  Someone who knows exactly what they have to do but isn't willing to ask for help-a immature individual, in a different bracket from the rest of humanity.  Thinking only of himself rather from others.  He's like a child, trying to prove himself…and so am I. 

------------

A frightened technician burst into the room.

            "I-" she panted, "Dr. Marston-went-out-give-this-to-Birkin?" She glanced back and forth between the two of them.  Her overly teased hair sprouted from her head like a weed, causing both William and Annette to grimace at the stupidity of their fellow humans.

"Is it what I asked for?" William's voice was sharp.  He did not take his hands away from Annette's head, gently caressing her bruised scalp, "Dr. Marston brought me the supplies that I asked for?"

The technician managed a weak nod.

            "Why are you so tired?" Annette pushed herself into a sitting position and sat "Indian Style." 

"I-ran-from-car-" the tech gasped, "Woof! Can I have a drink of water before I go?"

            "Sure." Birkin waved a hand dismissively, "I doubt I'll be drinking it.  Give me what I asked for please."

The technician appeared confused for a moment-her blue eyes blinking like a doe confronted with a gun for the first time, then-she dug into the pocket of her coat and produced a small white box.

"How much do I owe Frank?" William took the box without looking at her.  The technician crossed the room over to the side-table whereupon resided a pink water jug, a dead muffin, and a few flowers.

"Nothing." The technician took a swig of water, "He said that you taking that idea off his hands was enough.  Long as you get it put through he's fine."

That was it? Birkin held the small box tenderly, I should have given him more. 

Annette peered over, "What is it?"

            The tech stifled a snicker, "I know." She coughed, spilling water all across her front much to William's satisfaction.  She coughed again, "I-I knows."

"Absolutely. Fucking. Brilliant." William said sarcastically, "Now why don't you just go tell the rumor mill _now _so I won't have to worry about confirming any of it hmm?"

The girl went, chuckling.

            William paused and pushed himself away from Annette, sitting on his knees.  He stared down at the box ruefully, then back at her, his eyes nervous.

"Annette…when I first saw you-it was like Venus. I mean-" he sighed, "I can't-I'm not a poetic man Annette, I work much better with science." He smiled, "God! When you and I were in the lab, we were a team." He patted his hands on his thighs, "A good team, and a fast team.  But-we were working to better people…"

His eyes lit up with a feverish glow, Annette wondered where he'd be taking this.

            "I wanted- I knew the first time that I was pared with you-that I wanted you by my side.  I made the moves," he paused and reflected on their first kiss, a century ago, "I made those moves because I-I-"

"Was going to back them up?"

            "YES!" William smiled at her triumphantly, like a dog holding a duck, "Yes, you know me Annette-even-thorough hard times you know me-knew me." Wesker, they couldn't speak of Wesker now, not right at this moment, "The perfect partner."

The perfect Partner. Annette shook her head, How long ago did I say that I wanted one? Someone to stand beside me, to match my ideas with his or her own… 

            "Annette LeDour…" William handed her the box, his hand shaking.  She frowned, she'd watched him do the zombies and the dogs, and his hands never shook…

"Will you grant me the honor, the privilege, of being my perfect partner-my wife-for life?"

Silence.

Shocked, stunned, pregnant silence.

Did he just-Did-I-am-who-what- 

            "I…" Annette's mouth opened and closed a few times.  William's hand shot foreward and opened the box revealing an exquisite ring done in soft gold and three large diamonds.

He just hit me.  He _hit me._

"I do."

What? What the hell am I doing? 

            Annette got to her feet slowly; William was staring at her, expectant, begging her to say something-anything-

"Darling…" Annette pressed herself close to him and pushed all misgivings out of her mind, "I love you." 

She'd nearly lost this man, this partner once, she was _not _going to loose him again.

------------------------------

            Outside the Umbrella staff was clapping loudly.  The technician, as per the instructions of the senior researcher and therefore _boss_.  Had gone off and immediately told everyone and anyone within a five block radius of the building.  Wesker stood off to the side, watching the merriment.

So…

William proposed, good for him.

Was that what you saw? Irene? 

He turned away from the merriment and walked off to his room to rest.  There would be no sleep tonight, he could foresee it. 

---------------------

Author: Aww…Poor Wesker! Join in the merriment! 

Wesker: No thanks.

Author: But…Tis merry…

Wesker: You're the one who killed off my love interest remember? * Evil growling *

Author: Ah! Yes…but that was to provide dramatic tension and lead into the sequel…

Wesker: What sequel? Where's this sequel you've been hiding?

-Author Whistles innocently –

Wesker: That's it, I'm gonna wail on you like I'm gonna wail on Chris Redfield when I finally get a hold of him-

Author: EEP!

-Author runs off, being chased by Wesker-

(Birkin walks onstage)

William-Chapter twenty forthcoming shortly, thanks as always to reviewers, I think the author had something special involved for the sequel…audience participation or something like that. 

(Annette appears beside him)

Annette-HE'S GOING TO MARRY ME! *Dances for joy *

Birkin: I believe we've established that.

Annette: Come back soon! Chapter twenty will be sad…but the epilogue will be fun! Right? Right?


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter twenty? What? IT'S ALMOST OVER? * Weeps copiously * I love you all! Thank you! Thank you! Don't worry-there will be a sequel! My aim is to cover the last half of Wesker's Report and then maybe write Birkin's death scene (THE BEST DAMN FMV IN THE SERIES!)  But anyway-this chapter less love-more sad stuff…

SHOUT OUT! To my longtime reviewers, Pinquicha, Sporty-Girl, and Hamster of Doom! You guys rock! Thanks for all your support!  Also, to KELLY! For playing my Spy *huge grin * 

Note: I have NO idea what the name of the raccoon newspaper is, so I'm improvising.  My long hours of research couldn't find it-and I didn't have the patience to play the game again (right in the middle of silent hill) I apologize in advance-etc. 

---------------------------------

Excerpt from The Raccoon City Times

Morning Edition

Monday, 1986 

HANNIBAL MURDERER CAUGHT.  

RACCOON CITY EMPLOYEES SAVE THE DAY

By Ben Bertolucci

Today mourning throngs of citizens filed out for the grand processional that was to commemorate the lives of two of Raccoon City's finest who lost their lives saving the city from the throes of a deranged maniac.

            The Hannibal murderer left decomposing corpses on the doorsteps of various citizens' apartments, among them the Mayor and the Chief of the Fire Department.  Raccoon City's Medical Examiner Sherry Delaney was the first to make the connection that the murders were actually the work of a marauding psychopath.  Mrs. Delaney's body was found out in the woods on Sunday, along with the body of an unidentified male-who, police sources confirm, as David Gillespie-woodsman.  Found nearby was the body of Raccoon City Fire Department Chief Michael Redfield-found in similar condition to the other four corpses.

            Police believe that Gillespie might have actually left the bodies alive and then mutilated them, thereby explaining the theory behind the rash of biting and struggling that the victims attempted at the crime scenes.  Although two police officers and one civilian were Infected-Umbrella Corporation has generously stepped in and offered to pay for their expenses-transferring them to a special hospital in Los Angeles.

In other news the body of an unidentified woman has been discovered in the river out a few miles from town…

----------------------------

Church of the Eternal Light.

Raccoon City

The church was full to the gills of family, well-wishers, and mourners.  A row of firemen in uniform lined the second front bench, across from the family.  The Redfield family, at least all that remained of the Redfield family, sat all in black, heads bowed in the front row.

"Yea though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death I will fear no evil, for thou art with me… " The priest intoned.  He raised his hands above the altar, his eyes toward the heavens, beseeching the mercy of the lord. 

            "Chris." Kevin Redfield prodded his son, "Don't fall asleep." In the front row all eyes were on them, save those that were moist with tears.

"Dad…" Chris yawned and started to stretch.  Claire sighed and smacked her brother hard across the knee, "I can't help it!"

            "Behave-both of you." Callista whispered, "Or else."

"Lord, look down upon this man in your infinite mercy-guide him through to your kingdom and bring him to ever-lasting life, in your name we ask this…Amen."

"Amen."

"Amen." Claire and Chris whispered together.

            Kevin clenched his fist at his side and said a silent goodbye to the brother who'd taken care of him all these years.  They had to have a close-casket service, Umbrella had paid for it (Odd that) the way the man had spoken, and it was like it had been _their _fault that Michael was dead.

Chris folded his arms across his chest and clenched his face in a snarl.  Claire, looking like a dapper little gothic doll in black, fiddled with a strip of cloth on her dress.  Callista patted her husband on the arm and reached over to squeeze his hand.  Claire sniffled morosely.

It was over.

            Kevin was the first to leave, taking his wife by the arm.  Chris stuck his hands firmly in his pockets and hopped of the chair, followed by his sister who blinked and looked about bewildered at the people weeping.

            "Mr. And Mrs. Redfield…" 

Kevin turned abruptly and came face to face with a tall man with slicked back blond hair.  Although he appeared _far _younger, Kevin Redfield was irked to find out that the man was taller-by at least a foot. 

"Umbrella would like to express its condolences on the loss of your brother." The man said.  His voice was oily, Kevin glanced back and wondered where Callista and the children had gotten to, praying they'd rescue him from this man…

"Thank you." Kevin said uneasily, "Do you-work for Umbrella?"

"I have, for quite sometime."

"Nice of you to pay for the funeral-I-I mean I don't understand why you would have, Mr. Mr.-"

            "Wesker.  The body was on our land, we feel personally responsible." The man called Wesker stuck his hands in his pockets, "Are those your children over by the refreshment table?"

Kevin looked up and spotted Chris, helping his sister get a slice of cake.  The entire community had been very generous, coming out in droves to thank the hero and his family.  Everyone, from the police department to the fire department was here.  Probably the biggest social event these people will ever get. Kevin thought jokingly, but this guy Wesker…

"Yeah." Kevin replied finally, "Claire and Chris.  Only a few years apart, aren't they adorable?" Claire would remain forever a beauty, and his son had his wife's stoic chiseled good looks, "You married?"

For a moment the mysterious oily Wesker looked pained, "No-No I was but…I recently lost my wife.  She passed away." He explained, "Very sudden."

            "Oh." More death every day, "I'm sorry."

"It's quite alright." Wesker said removing a hand from his pocket and studying his fingernails, "Why worry about the past when the future is so very bright? You have very fine children Mr. Redfield, you should take good care of them."

"I intend to." Somehow the man's comment sent him bristling, "I'll always take care of my kids."

Wesker seemed satisfied with that.  He shoved his hands back into his pockets and moved away amongst the mourners and the zombies all in black.

-------------------

Across Town

They had come back just in time for her funeral.

            Annette sat on a patch of wet grass and studied the tombstone intently, as if staring could bring the dead back to life.  Her hair was shorter now; she'd gotten it cut before leaving Los Angeles in a Beverly Hills Salon. 

She wanted to look her best for the wedding.

I can't believe it sherry. She'd only known the woman for a short time, yet she felt a close kinship with her, Am I making your same mistake?  Should I have said no? She'd thought about that on the returning plane, and the drive from Silent Hill.  William made small talk, but he could tell she was upset by something-and he left her alone.

Sherry? 

            The wind blew softly; the world shrouded in a thin blue blanket of clouds that dimmed everything the color of water in the nearby lake.  She and William didn't dare attend the funeral openly, but now she'd come to visit and pay her respects…

Daniel won't be so lucky. As per Umbrella policy, his body was going to Los Angeles for experimentation.  So many of her colleagues were making that journey-both the living and the dead.  Many of the survivors had become warped by what they'd seen at Arklay-

Evolution.

            She and William had poured over the accounts of the tale.  The virus, in its natural habitat-had evolved.  When Irene (There was no denying it now) had opened the mansion and let loose a zombie (Sometimes that was all it took) it developed methods of defense.  Trees, animals-it had gotten out and been contained relatively easy.

            The Personal affects had been arranged by Irene-or so they thought.  The graveyard of pictures, trucks, dolls, and memorabilia left behind by humans long dead had been disposed of.  The mansion was in the process of being fixed-with new labs added on to where the morgue had once been.  Umbrella had enough political power in the city and state government to make it so that their lives-for whatever they were worth-had been lived in vain.

No one would know.

The Hannibal murders would go down in history.  The police department (According to Perverted wonder Brian Irons) was considering bringing in a special team that would handle cases and rescue missions of that sort.  STARS was making a large fuss, saying that they should have handled the case.  The Clean Up crew had been through, the evening news was plastered with images of "The Killers lair" David Gillespie's shack trussed up to look like he worshiped some daemon god.

Oh they were good.

            I'm sorry Sherry. Annette pushed herself up off the grass quietly, Please forgive us.  We're just doing our job. 

The wind seemed to come a bit faster then, as if scolding her, or berating her humanity.

"Annette?"

            William stood a few feet away, wrapped in a trench coat and looking at her with wide blue eyes.  The sky darkened around them, and Annette dropped the floors directly atop the gravesite.

"Are you ready?" He understood her need to grieve.  Sherry and she must have gotten close before Irene shot her…

Annette nodded once and jogged quickly down the hill.  She wrapped her arm around William's and pushed the thoughts of the dead out of her mind.  Together the two of them left the graveyard and returned to the world of the living.

---------------------

Author's Note: That's it? HOW ANI-CLIMATIC! Have no fear however-the Epilogue shall set things straight-including setting the stage for the glorious sequel.  Mata-Na for now! 


	21. EPILOGUE

EPILOGUE-YAY! RamenKitty Finished, she finished-she finished- and now she can start the sequel! At least after I finish this. * Wink *

Music: I listened to a lot of music while writing this-I recommend a lot of these songs totally:

Taproot: Myself, Fault, Poem (Three different songs)

T.A.T.U- All the things you say

Chevelle-the red 

Disclaimer: copyright Capcom, all rights reserved * super huge grin *

------------

Chicago Branch

Umbrella Corporation

Two months after "The Accident" 

Once again the board members met to consider.

            "Lets hear an update on the Arklay situation." The chairman folded his hands, "Joel?"

Joel Alleman took a deep breath, "Personnel reports that once again Arklay is back to full-standing research compacity.  William reports-"

"William?"

            "Dr. Birkin." Joel corrected, "Reports that they've begun plans to move into a third stage of project T-" here he paused and re-read William's words over in his mind, "A Soldier that could be used as a biological weapon, given express commands, and trained to follow orders." 

"They're calling it the Tyrant."

"How apt." someone down at the end of the table laughed, "What is Dr. Wesker's view on this project?"

            "Wesker's view is the same as Williams." The chairman said curtly, "And Arklay is currently occupied for the nonce, seeing as they have a wedding going on today and most of this week."

"Wedding?" the black woman blinked, "Who's getting married?"

            "Dr. Birkin and one of his staff members." Joel said, "William granted Dr. LeDour-I mean Dr. Birkin senior staff privileges.  Apparently, she'll be working with him on the Tyrant project."

"I didn't think Dr. Birkin was the type to marry." Cowboy hat put in, "He always struck me a bit like Marcus-"

            "Yes." The chairman said, "But we've all learned from that haven't we?"

Silence around the table.

            "In any case-" Joel continued, "I've suggested that we prep a few of our candidates here for training at Arklay." He pulled out a list of names, "Sandra Silverman, Jack Bernard, John Howe-"

"Howe? Isn't he the guy who came up with using Behavior Modification in the penal system with some of the more extreme cases? In the case of the mental patients-"

"One of the reasons why we think he'll get along quite well at Arklay." Joel said quietly, "of course the transfer will take a few years, but we believe that it will be successful."

            "Excellent." The Chairman said smoothly, "Now then, anything else to report?" 

"Paris now is offering their assistance in relation to the Arklay matter." 

"Those bastards." Cowboy had snorted, "What the hell are they doing over there?"

            Often, there would be little or no communication between company employees-particularly higher ups and lower staffers.

"Something called the "Nemesis" project." 

            "Doesn't sound all together cheerful." The Englishman said finally, "But I guess they don't sit around do they?"

"Nope." The black woman said.  She picked through her files and came to a single sheet with pictures of food, "Shall we order lunch now?"

----------------------------

Suburbs.

"Ah." Kevin Redfield looked out into the suburbs, and the city that glimmered in the distance, "The wonderful silence of suburbia."

            Callista appeared on the porch beside him and slid her arm through his.  She rested her petite chin on his shoulder and brushed her shoulder length brown hair behind her head. 

"Thinking deep thoughts?"

Kevin stirred under her touch, "I guess."

"Bout what?"

            Kevin sighed and scratched his brown head.  His green eyes were serious when he wrapped his arm around his wife's waist and held her close against him.

"Do you ever regret marrying me? I mean I'm not home most of the time-I'm on duty-"

            Callista pulled away from him and stood arms akimbo, "Fuck you Kevin-did you _honestly _think that would bother me?" she smiled, and the tomboyish girl that Kevin had met on the base in German came back in an instant, "It bothers the kids sometimes-daddy's gone, where's daddy, when's daddy coming home-"

            Kevin sighed, "It pisses me off."

"Don't take it too hard.  Chris is getting to the point where he doesn't care, and Claire is…well emulating her brother." Callista patted her husband's arm fondly, "you're a good dad Charlie brown, if not somewhat…morose."

            Kevin laughed and playfully punched her on the shoulder, "Morose? Mrs. "writing for the good of mankind?"

The two smiled, hugged, and came together. 

Inside Chris stood watching them.

            "What do you think Dad's talking about?"

Claire was absorbed in their "Atari game system."

"What?"

            "Dad." Chris pointed at their father, "What do you think he's talking about?"

"How should I know?" Claire said stubbornly, "Come over and play Mario with me."

Chris sighed and walked across the light carpet to where his sister sat perched on the edge of the couch absorbed in her game.  The little characters jumped across the screen, far more animated then the scene outside-or the scene today at the funeral.

            "Are you gonna miss Uncle Mike?"

Claire shrugged and made Mario duck a flaming line of poorly animated fire.  He sat beside his sister and gave her a sideways hug as he watched her continue to cheat death in the fictional game. 

---------------------------------

Paris Laboratory-

" Le Spécimen est-il prêt?" 

"Oui.  Le Médecin, prêt quand vous êtes."

            The man observing watched carefully as the scientists moved the complicated machinery to the subject's head-ignoring the flopping and wiggling arms of the once human.  This project could afford no luxuries like "Kindness" or "Compassion"

He knew.

"Je reçois une lecture positive. Assujettir clairement tente d'éliminer le parasite."

            He watched as the assistant pulled the equipment back-revealing a ravaged face.  Skin was missing from the exposed area around the teeth and eyes-making it appear that the skeleton was jumping out of its host.  The eyes were bulging from the sockets and staring around the room.

Clearly alive.

"Please…"

The American voice seems very out of place here. The man thought, Pity the poor fellow had to get in the way of our examiners. Damn technicians always thought that they had to be a hero-he was regretting it now. 

"Administrerai-t-j'une autre dose de résultats de T VIRUS et moniteur?"

"Oui." The Doctor looked bored and turned on his heel, making to leave. 

"Wait! You can't leave! Please-please god-"

            The man turned away from the window as the doctor approached.  He was a thin man, almost pallid-with a long scar running down his face from the top of his forehead to his chin.

            "How are we doing?"

"We're keeping him from changing-but just barely." The doctor said in heavily accented English.  Inside the glass bubble the American was screaming, "We have your permission to test the Nemesis Parasite on this man?"

            "Of course."  Perfect that one of the infected from Arklay is one of the ones to test this out. "Do keep me informed of the results will you?"

"Of course Lord Spencer, of course."

----------------------------------

Raccoon City

Clock tower

Wesker twirled the keys about his finger, imagining Irene laughing with him on the bright sunny day, dressed in her favorite violet dress.  He would have betrayed Umbrella anyway this simply hastened his resolve.

"You're awfully quiet." His companion said, "Thinking deep thoughts?"

"Not really." Wesker rubbed at his arm and stared out over the city.  Sometimes he wished he'd been assigned to a larger place, the buildings looked like blocks compared to other structures.

"Ah." Ada Wong walked across the floor and stared out at the same landscape, "This is where it will begin.  Glory and the Future."

            "Yeah." And I'll end up being a part of it. There was a certain satisfaction in that.  But now he had something bigger to prepare for…

Much bigger.

            Ada Wong shrugged and sauntered away from him.  He listened to the dim sounds of her retreating before he sighed and straightened his tie for the forth time.

----------------

Church Of the Eternal Light

It was a small ceremony.  Somehow working for Umbrella caused people to loose touch with large grandiose operations.

"I now pronounce you man and wife."

            William Birkin ignored the polite applause from co-workers and friends as he drew Annette closer to him and kissed her softly on the lips, drinking in her scent and her body.

I got married. 

The fact was still shocking, still absolutely unbelievable.  He wasn't the kind to have a family, or a wife.

You married her because you wanted a promise of fidelity.  You wanted her to be _yours_

Processional music began to play.  William took his wife (How odd, saying that) by the arm and led her down the aisle.  Annette swallowed the feelings of unhappiness and guilt at accepting when she felt that Birkin was at his weakest and stood next to her husband outside the churches double doors.

Well…I'm married. Somehow she'd expected different feelings.  The ceremony and sacred values that were placed on this particular institution bored her, Why can't you just live with somebody? 

That was what bothered her about Birkin…

            "Congratulations." Kate McGraw, her longtime best friend from New Orleans was the first to come up, "I expect to see a godchild within the year!" she poked Annette in the ribs and gave her friend a hug.  Kate wore a long red dress, her hair pinned up in twin barrettes that looked like roses.  Her dusky coloring and long dark black hair made her seem like some exotic lotus, smelling of sin.

"Shouldn't you be talking to me about this?" Annette had gushed about Kate in the two months that they had been engaged-but he'd never met her up until that point.  She sauntered over and studied William with a critical eye.

"Can I help you?" He raised an eyebrow.  Kate smiled and he perceived a glint of insanity in her black eyes.

"I always figured you'd go for the lab-boy type." Kate smirked, "Jeff back in High school, Michael at med school-"

"That will do." Birkin said quickly, "Annette darling, shall we prepare for the reception?"

Annette's eyes drifted back to the two of them, "what?" sunlight streamed off her hair, giving her a urethral look.

"I'm sorry." She returned to the world of the living, "What did I miss?"

Just a description of every last boyfriend of the last twenty years Birkin thought, angry, This causes her to come off a bit whorish I admit… 

But he couldn't admit.  This was his wife, and transgressions or no this was the woman he had to love for the rest of his life.

"Where are you going for your honeymoon?"

            Annette looked doubtful, "We're not going to have one, we're in the midst of a large project at work-" Other guests streamed by, interrupting them.  William busied himself with making the necessary noises of appreciation and thanks.  Finally the guests had drifted off to the local bar- (Aptly titled "Jim's Bar") where the reception would be held.

They were alone.

            "We should get in the car and drive over." Annette offered lamely, "To the Reception."

"Yeah." William scratched his head, "Uh…was it an okay service for you?"

            "Well," the two of them began to walk, "To tell you the truth, I don't understand why there's the need for such _ceremony._"  The car was a sporty little Nissan, Japanese Everything being the rage.  Annette stopped at the rim of the curb as William walked over to the passenger side without saying a word, then looking at her expectantly.

            Annette stepped over the curb and gingerly stepped into the car.  William adjusted the rear-view mirror and put his hand on hers gently. 

She flinched, "Something wrong?"

William frowned at her, his blue eyes dark in the light, "No-I just-wanted to do that-That's all."

            "Oh William…"Annette's voice broke, "I'm sorry, it's just-I'm nervous-I mean-the commitment we just made-"

William Birkin clenched the steering wheel and relaxed.

"I'm nervous too…does that help?"

            Annette shuffled her foot.  The engine started with a roar and Annette leaned back into the seat.  William's hand rested gingerly on his leg, she reached over tentatively.

You shouldn't be worried about that anymore.  He's your husband.  The man you said yes to. 

Michael, Jack, the others…didn't matter.  She sighed and smiled for the first time that day.  William pulled into the first light out of the church parking lot and looked over-returning her smile.  She took his hand as the light changed green and the car moved foreward gently.

"Thank you."

William blinked.  Outside the world shifted as he made a left turn down main street-past the dilapidated police department.  He avoided looking at the fire station, remembering Michael Redfield, lying there on the floor…

Jack's Bar was a large open-fronted building with a fake and peeling golden façade that had seen far better days.  William parked the car in the parking lot to the side and stared at Annette.

Somehow, his wife had managed to stuff herself into his tiny little car wearing that gaudy monstrosity of a wedding dress.  She directed her attention at the brick wall in front of them as she opened the door and sighed glumly.

            "I'd kill-literally kill for a pair of jeans."

William smiled, "Can I help?"

            "No! No…I can get out." She grunted and pushed all her weight against the doorframe, "Kate can go to hell for suggesting this.  Do you think it was appropriate?"

William frowned, "Honestly? I didn't understand why we couldn't have just gotten married in front of a Justice of the Peace…"

Annette sighed and climbed out of the car.

            William frowned and pushed at the door.  She'd been the one who insisted on getting married in a church-what was up with this sudden bought of religion? Thankfully, they'd agreed that they weren't going to have a honeymoon…

            Wesker had been pushing for the past two months to begin the Tyrant project.  William snorted; he was such a small-minded man, only thinking about what the company wanted.  There was more work to be done with the crimson heads after all.  And tests on the virus itself…

"Hey! Dr. Birkin!"

William forced himself to smile, "Hello Rick." He and Annette approached the bar cautiously.  Already the area was filled with raucous Umbrella employees.  If there was one truth about the mysterious Umbrella Corporation, it was that they could drink when it suited them.

"Congratulations Dr. B!" A Tech leaned against one of the large bay windows-his voice muffled by the fact that he was speaking through glass, "She's one hot lady-yes she is-"

Annette gripped Williams arm and disregarded the pleasure that she'd have seeing this poor man punched out by her husband.  She sighed and picked up her skirt with both hands.

"Fuck, I'm going to go put jeans on, or at least take this monstrosity off." Annette told William.  She fiddled with her skirt, "I'll be back in a minute…darling."

That felt good. She turned on her heel and walked back to the car.  She'd worn shorts underneath the skirt-so it wasn't a problem taking off the dress-and she had one of William's old shirts in the car, Very good… 

This might work out after all.

            William stuck his hands in his pockets and rocked back and forth on his heels.  He glanced around the corner again and turned back just in time to run into Wesker.

"Al-Albert." William stuttered.  Where the hell were you? 

"William." Wesker's voice was smooth, "I'm sorry I was late."

            "That-Well-I guess that's alright." William smiled and tried to be cheerful, "You had a good reason?" If you didn't I'll hang you out to dry by your coattails asshole. 

"Actually…I did." Wesker fumbled in his pocket for a moment and William had the brief image that he was going to pull out a weapon.  He gasped, completely missing Annette as she came round the corner wearing one of his shirts-and frowned when he saw that All Wesker had was a piece of paper.

            "A Letter." Wesker flicked his wrist and the paper unfolded with a flourish, "From my friend Joel Allmen with the board."

"Joel?" William's brows furrowed, "Basketball Joel?" All he remembered about Joel Allmen was that he had an almost unnatural obsession with Basketball (probably why he was removed from the Research department and put in business…)

"Dear Dr. Birkin." Wesker began, "It has come to our attention that you have recently been joined in Marriage to: Medical Supervisor Annette LeDour."

            "Wow, they're really poetic and filled with joy aren't they?" William snorted, "Asshole."

Wesker continued as if he had not heard.  Ignoring Annette as she slid her arm through her husbands, as if some contact would keep her from-being-affected-by-

            "In recognition of your outstanding service to the corporation and in honor of your new status as a "family man" we are giving you one of our lines of property in raccoon city.  The property can be located at-" Wesker dropped the letter, "Anyway-because of your work and your marriage the company is giving you a house-I've been to see it and it's actually pretty nice."

"Wait-how did you get in to my house?"

            "We get a house?" Annette smiled, "No more living in dark and dreary manor?"

"Nope." Wesker ignored William, "A very nice house-with a pool, five bedrooms-out in the suburbs of Silent Hill.  It means a bit of a commute-"

"Commute nothing! We have a house!" Annette grabbed William around the waist, "AN ACTUAL HOUSE!"

            "You-honey-that's great-dearest but-uh-" Can't I stay near my place of work? 

"A house! Oh that'll be wonderful…"

Unknown to anyone, Annette liked houses.

            She really liked them; there was something about houses that reminded her of her days living with Grandma Cassandra LeDour in New Orleans.  Sometimes, in driving through the suburbs of Raccoon, she'd gaze forlornly at the happy families holding hands and long for the carefree days of her youth.

"Yeah…" William detested houses.  They required nick-knacks, and all sorts of things to make them seem filled.  They also required furniture and various appliances.  A lot more space then a human being actually needed.  Annette was looking at him starry eyed-and he smiled.  She was amazing; he'd never known a woman who would get so excited about a building.

"Why don't the two of you head over now."? Wesker put his hands in his pockets, "I can keep the party under control."

"Albert…I wanted-to say-" Annette stumbled, "Thank you-I mean-I'm sorry about-About-"

"Absolutely nothing." Albert Wesker said, "Good day Mrs. Birkin." He turned on his heel and walked back into the bar without looking at either of them.

            Annette seemed confused, so William put a hand on her arm and smiled, "Don't worry about Albert…he just needs some time that's all." 

" I guess…"

            William frowned, "Are you alright?"

Never mind the fact that I feel partially responsible for what happened to Irene. Annette sighed, "I suppose so.  The house-we have a house!" she jumped into his arms and continued to bounce, " A house! A Home! We can decorate it-and-and do-" 

She began to detail plans for their new home, and William listened despite all his misgivings.  A house meant yard work and Matinence, but that was what hired help was for, he could do his research with his wife, his partner by his side-

And for once have a home as well.

Paris France-

The overwhelming silence of a hot lab. 

It is completed then? 

Yes. The second voice replied in heavily accented English, We are continuing to monitor the subject-but there is no change yet. Only… 

            The first man looked over at his colleague-features completely obscured by the mask he wore over his face.  The subject (It could no longer be called human) lay prone on the table before the two of them staring upward.  It's breathing was a loud harsh echoing reminder of its presence, and its determination to beat them and survive.

Are we seeing any kind of development at all? 

The brain.  The parasite has burrowed into the occipital lobe.  It has three fourths of its length wrapped _through _the brain itself.  We believe that we can use that as a method of control. 

            The first man frowned.  They were treading on dangerous ground now, Genetic manipulation was a new science, and horribly undeveloped-if the slightest thing went wrong…

What are we codenaming this project? 

First let me ask you something.  Is it true that Umbrella US has come up with a project similar to this known as the "Tyrant" Project? 

            The first man did not know how to answer that question. 

It is only just now beginning.  I promise to stonewall it every chance I get. 

I hope so. The second man said, For your sake.  We will not have our research compromised. 

            The first man clenched a fist and slammed it down between the subject's legs, Do not presume to tell me what I can, and cannot do _doctor_. The first man raised his arms and exited the chamber-his movement made difficult by the bulk of his safe suit.  Assistants helped him out of it, and the familiar face of Lord Oswell Spencer stared back into the room where the doctor was still fuming over his reprimand. 

            Subject Nemesis is prepared for injection series 122-AB-16K. The doctor said, Nurse? Will you please come in? 

----------------

And there's the epilogue! Setting the stage for the sequel-and answering some questions!  The Sequel will be coming shortly! Stay tuned! Please! J 


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